While driving to the Y today for a little workout (translation...free babysitting) my kids reminded me of why it is I put them to bed each night and tell them they simply must go to sleep so I can grow new love for them. That's right, I tell them, Mommy's love is like a flower.
We're tooling down the road listening to Veggie Tales. This was a compromise. BabyBoy wanted to listen to Fergie and BabyGirl wanted to listen to the Disney Princess CD. So, Veggie Tales won. I kind of like Veggie Tales. Good, clean, fun Bible tunes set to catchy music. All of a sudden BabyBoy went and said IT. No, not the F bomb or the S bomb. He said the thing that I've really been dreading either one of them saying because it means that they really are typical brother and sister and not the little cherubs I want them to be.
BabyBoy: She's looking out my window.
Me: Huh?
BabyBoy: She's looking out MY window. I want her to look out HER window.
Me: Why don't YOU look out her window and then you're even?
BabyBoy: (screaming) I DON'T WANT HER TO LOOK OUT MY WINDOW! MAKE HER STOP!
At this point I positioned my rearview mirror so that I could see BabyGirl. She had the most devilish grin on her face. Clearly, this was all just hilarious to her.
And so the battle continued for the next 10 minutes until we got to the Y and as soon as they hopped out of the car all was well in the world. I, of course, was left with a screaming headache.
When we got home, they proved that despite the fact that they want me to believe they hate one another, they're really just conspiring against me. I went to get a shower and things got suspiciously quiet downstairs. Then I heard the back porch door open. As I looked out the upstairs window onto the porch I see them sitting TOGETHER in a chair eating popsicles and laughing and smiling. STOLEN popsicles, mind you. THEN, BabyBoy leans over and gives BabyGirl a kiss. She of course returns the kiss and adds a hug.
I didn't even bother to bust them. It was just one of those parenting moments where you're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't.
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2 comments:
Hmm, sounds supiciously like lunchtime with my five year old son and three year old daughter. At least you're not alone, right?
40 days and counting here. :-)
I love that story! They will of course hate it in 10 years when you re-tell it over and over in front of their "cool" friends.
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