Why?
Why do we do stupid things after people tell us specifically to not do that one thing that we are about to do? For instance, when someone says, "Do NOT eat at _____ restaurant," why do we think, "Oh, it can't be bad if there are always cars in the parking lot,"and then expect people to feel sorry for us when we get food poisoning? Why did we go back to that boyfriend/girlfriend that broke our heart and then couldn't understand why our friends didn't show sympathy after the 3rd breakup? Why do we insist on that 5th glass of wine when our best friend says, "Girl, you're done!" Why do we continue to have nights with said best friend and wine when we know we don't recover quite as quickly as we did when we were 21 and the next day is full of kid birthday parties at Chuck-e-cheese and soccer games? Oh wait, those last two were me.
My sweet 8 year old is incredibly smart, loves to read, is the best big brother EVER, and has been pretty damn close to perfect...until recently. Remember the post that started it all? (The day I backed into the damn tree for those of you with foggy memories, or those of you on your very own glass number 5) I totally blame him for the destruction of the bumper because I told him not to run over the benches like hurdles in the parking lot full of jagged-edged rocks. Did he listen? Hell no! As he sat there screaming like his leg was caught in a steel, sharp-toothed trap, I looked at him and said, "Didn't I tell you not to jump over the benches?" I know. I'm so compassionate. Call me Florence Nightengale. Well, tonight was another one of those instances. I swear to you, I wonder often which of my boys has special needs. The 4 year old has the diagnosis but the 8 year old leaves me baffled. Let's just say that the conversation went something like this:
Luke: Mom! I really hurt myself and I'm bleeding to death!!
Me: Luke, I don't have time for this. Clay is in bed and Daddy is out of town.
Luke: But it's really, really baaaaaaaaaaaad!
Me: What happened?
Luke: (Sobbing) I hit my foot on the dining room table.
Me: (Thinking he stubbed his toe) Did you hurt the table?
Luke: MOM! It's bad and I'm bleeding!
***Sure enough, he has quite a bit of the red stuff coming from the back of his heel, just near his Achilles Tendon***
Me: What did you do?
Luke: Well, I was doing handstands in the dining room, and....
Me: Wait, what? I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO HANDSTANDS IN THE HOUSE!!
Luke: You just told me not to do them in the living room.
And this, ladies and gentleman, is why I need that aforementioned wine.
Cheers.
I just got back from the emergency room where William received his first set of stitches in his finger after running in the house after I told him not to.... Oh and when the screaming started the phone also rang and I answered the phone because I didn't believe he was that hurt..... mommy of the year
ReplyDeletein the immortal words of a preschool teacher I once knew " dry it up" :-)
ReplyDeletewe were at a kindergarten playdate and Evelyn was hanging onto a bar upside down and she let go landing flat on her back. the other parents gaped at me when I looked at her and said " she's fine". she was also barefoot. probably not going to be voted in as room mom.
See, this is exactly why I couldn't have kids- my career has ruined me.
ReplyDelete"Are you actually missing a limb? Are you dead? Then you are FINE."