Insanity is Contagious ... and I Have It

My husband and I are moving into the keep-your-sanity-at-all-costs parenting phase. Long gone are the days of merely providing physiological needs for our children. Instead we are combating insanity which, I am finding, is both contagious and transferable.

Unfortunately for me, I currently have a bad case of insanity. This is evidenced by a number of symptoms.

I Am Making Up Rules

I was feeding Evie (13 weeks) and Abby (4 1/2) came into the room, looking to irritate me. My husband thinks I'm being harsh when I think this way, but it's SO OBVIOUS.

She picks up one of the hoses from my breast pump and starts flipping it around like a jump rope.

Me: "Stop that."

Abby: "Why?"

Me: "Um, because I said! When I tell you something, you don't ask why, you just do it!"

Holy s*%$.  I am my parents.

I Am Turning into an Adolescent Child

Dig into this story you're sure to love.

I was home alone with all three kids, putting them through their bedtime routine. I threw a pile of clean laundry on the floor in their room. I asked Abby to start sorting it. She refused.

"No, I don't want to."

"I don't care if you want to. I told you to do it, so you need to do it."

Right. She began mocking me in her mind. Or at least that's what I envisioned. Instead of sorting the clothes, she started jumping into them as though they made up a pile of leaves. My blood started to boil as she continued to disregard my instruction.

Finally, I decided to put into practice a tactic I have been using to force my kids to acknowledge the instructions I give. I told Abby, "repeat what I told you to do."

Her reply?

"Repeat what I told you to do."

Me: "Excuse me?"

Abby: "Excuse me?"

Okay. At this point, just consider me a 10-year old. I'm pissed. This four-year old is NOT going to get the better of me. I take her Lego set that she got that day and I put it on the bookshelf out of her reach. She starts going crazy. That's it. I showed her.

I go back to getting the kids ready for bed. Jack is completely nude after a bath. I told him to put on his Pull-Up, but I don't know why I even gave the instruction. I know he won't do this on his own. I then turn around and see that Abby has pulled up a stool to retrieve her Legos from the shelf.

Um. NO.

I lose it. Like ... lose it. I put the Legos on the tippity top shelf and start to say things to Abby that there is no way she's going to comprehend.

"This is about respect! You need to listen to me when I tell you something!"

She is giggling. I'm so far gone. No hope for me now.

It Only Gets Worse

These things just compile on top of one another to the point that the dumbest, smallest thing turns me into a raving lunatic. Fast forward to bath time and the kids were putting their teacups on the ledge of the tub so that overflowing water was spilling onto the floor. I swear, one drop hit the tile and I turned into the Hulk. I may have actually turned green.

Tom laughs at me and wonders how I can let these things get to me. I, personally, think he just underestimates the emotional intelligence of our kids. Either way, the bottom line is that I will win.

I will win.

I will.