Ya try to be a good mom, and they just won't letcha do it...

It's a beautiful day. Not quite 90 degrees, breezy, sunny - just gorgeous. The kids came home from school (half-day Thursdays, ya know), and I decided that we should spend the afternoon outside. So we pack up a couple of balls, a frisbee, a pair of binoculars, and the boys' beyblades and head outside. Woohoo! A chance to wear the kids out, get some sun, and put everybody in a good mood, right?

Wrong! What I ended up with was a very whiney 3 year old. Ok fine. I'll put her down for a nap. This suggestion, of course, nearly caused a riot, because no matter how much a 3yo needs a nap, she'll never go down willingly. So she screams, yells, kicks her feet, and throws one heck of a fit, "I don't want to take a naaaaaaap! I'm not tired!!!!" This, as any mother knows, translates into, "Please make me take a nap. I'm exhausted and grumpy." Twenty minutes later, she is finally laying down. Thank God.

Meanwhile, the five year old decides that boundaries aren't his thing anymore. Who needs to stay where Mom tells him? Certainly not he! I got D down for her nap, then stepped onto the porch to check on the boys, and P was nowhere to be found. I had to step outside to find him. He wasn't far - just behind the building. But out of my sight, and thus, out of bounds. He had already been warned twice, and we run on a three strikes and you're out policy. Time for him to come in.

This, of course led to another near-riot. He threw one of his screaming-tantrums-turned-rages that are usually reserved for home. But this time, he was outside, screaming for all of the neighbors to hear. It sounded like someone was bludgeoning him with a baseball bat, while peeling off his toenails, and forcing him to eat liver & onions- all at the same time. Anybody who bothered to look would have noticed that no one was anywhere near touching him, but it wouldn't surprise me if several neighbors who didn't look decided to call the police or child protective services. During his fit, he chose to rip off his sandals and whip them at me with all of his strength, which only further increased his punishment. Now, instead of just being required to go inside, he would be grounded to his bed for a while. Telling him this, though, simply intensified the fit. I just love parenting.

It took him half an hour to calm down enough to talk with him about why he was required to come in, and why he was grounded to his bed. I think it has finally sunk in.

It's almost time for (fit number three?) me to call the oldest in to do his homework. Wish me luck.