How To Lose Your Mind in One Short Week

How To Lose Your Mind in One Short Week


Parenting is basically not getting paid to slowly lose your mind, watch your possessions deteriorate, make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and wipe butts in exchange for a snuggle every once in a while. This is probably the lowest paying job ever in the history of the world.

And so, it finally happened. They won. They broke me down. Here’s the rundown on how they did it. Don’t worry, I’ll get more detailed later.

1. Ask the same questions over and over. And over. And then repeat that. Over and over.

2. Touch each other. Repeatedly. For no reason at all.

3. Look at each other. See above.

4. Argue about everything you say. No matter what it is. Over and over.

The pattern here is obvious: My children are trying to wear me down through repetition and IT’S WORKING.

It doesn’t really matter the conversation. For the past week, every conversation has followed this basic pattern:

Kid: Can I?
Me: No.
Kid: Can I?
Me: No.
Kid: Can I?
Me: No.
Kid: Can I?
Me: No.
Kid: Can I?
Me: Do you not speak English?! NO!! You. Can. NOT.
Kid: Oh. But why not…I mean, can I?
Me: {walk away, deep breathing}

Did they all of a sudden forget the meaning of words or what? And why are they touching each other – punching each other’s arms, pinching each other’s legs? AND they’ve been…LOOKING at one another. I mean, imagine the nerve of a person whose eyeballs are looking in your direction for any length of time.

And then there’s this…

…there is the “spot” on the couch that is prime real estate. This spot is worth millions per square inch. Wars have been fought over this spot. This spot is why I day drink on a Wednesday while I buy stupid stuff on Amazon. Can’t. Even. Deal. With. This. Again.

…shoes will be the death of me. Every day is a new adventure called “I don’t know where you put your shoes! Where were you the last time you were wearing them? You’ve known for an hour we had to leave at 10:45, it’s 10:43…why are you JUST NOW looking for them?!” It’s a long title, but it’s very accurate.

…sugar consumption must be equal down to the last molecule. If one person’s Tootsie Roll is half a millimeter bigger, all hell breaks loose.

It’s the arguing about every little thing that has really gotten to me lately, though…Aren’t these the same kids that don’t question the fact that a talking sponge lives on the bottom of the sea and has a job flipping patties in a restaurant owned by a crab? I say “Isn’t the sky such a pretty shade of blue?” and get hammered with “That’s not really a blue, mom…kinda a blueish pink.” or “It’s really not that pretty.”

Well, excuse me.

Now, to be clear, I love my kids and I think they love me, too. The issue is that loving them is slowly draining away my sanity and the really crazy thing is…

I VOLUNTEERED for the job. And I love it.

Maybe I have lost my mind. Maybe we all do…just a little bit. Maybe that’s what makes us normal.

 

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