Melty Hearts & Heinousness

Double post alert!

Thanks to the challenging little project we completed, right as my entire household of children was melting into total and complete heinousness. 

The culmination of a day of majorly substandard behavior.

So.

In honor of Valentine’s, let’s make this fun, shall we??

Heeere’s the project...

And now heeeere’s a list of grievances. 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

I love thee even when you cry and throw a fit and kick your feet against the bed instead of getting dressed, and then sob and wail—repeatedly, for a half hour. All because we’re not running the errand of your choosing. 

And I love thee even when you lean your chair back during dinner when I’ve repeatedly told you not to, and you end up toppling backwards, food and all, right in the middle of an already-disastrous meal.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

I love thee even when you refuse my homework assistance and believe with your whole heart that I’m incorrect, when I’m not. And I especially love thee even when you get so worked up and frustrated that you direct your anger at me and deploy your sarcasm as a weapon against the meal I’m forcing you to eat for the health of your body (cauliflower mac and cheese is total torture, I know).

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

I love thee even when there are more moments with tears than with dry eyes after school—all because your siblings and I won’t play the exact imaginary game you want, exactly as you dictate. 



And I love thee even when you cry and sob and complain and dry-heave so much over dinner (that torturous cauliflower mac and cheese again) that you finally gag enough to throw up right at the table, all over your plate, your nightgown, your hair and your chair.

And then ask for dessert.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

I love all three of you crazy (major emphasis on that word tonight) nuggets even when I call daddy home in enough time before bed to sit together around the table and ask you to confess all of your poor behavior in your own words, one at a time, so you can own up to your actions without me tattling on your behalf.

And I love daddy for being my parenting buddy on days when the list of grievances is far more substantial than the few I’ve shared on this post.

And now. 

To close out this heinous, mock-so-you-don't-cry recap, heeere’s a pic of Little Man with his completed project and a weary-from-crying smile:



And here he is when I asked him how I felt about his behavior, ha. 



Better luck tomorrow, right???



Until then. Sending only happy vibes to my babies as they sleep, because I love them like crazy—especially when they ARE crazy. 

‘Cause those are they days when they must really need it.

Over and out.