Dear Diary …
“Kids are great. I love my children. I’m so glad I have them.”
Those are the kinds of phrases we parents say to ourselves to talk ourselves off the ledge. The ledge that our children have walked us to, and are usually trying to push us off because they’re evil little monsters.
No no no … Kids are great. I love my children. I’m SO glad I have them.
OK … in all seriousness … the statements are true, but sometimes you just gotta remind yourself of them, because these little rugrats wear you out. Physically AND emotionally.
You ever try to argue with a tiny child? It’ll suck the life and energy right out of you because … you can’t win.
And yes … you can think that you’re older and stronger and smarter … “I’ll draw the line in the sand and I’ll win!” And yes, you may actually “win” … but you are thoroughly drained when it’s over. And the main reason is because trying to win an argument with a child is impossible, because they don’t argue with logic.
Take my son for example … he’s three. And he hates food. OK well not ALL food … he loves candy and hot dogs, but that’s about it. Actual food that’s good for you? Not so much.
So that’s why when you try to get him to eat an actual dinner, it becomes a fight.
“Don’t want dinner.”
Ok fine … but you have to at least eat one bite before you can have dessert. (I know … I’m soooo strict, huh?)
“No … all done with dinner.”
You’re not all done. You haven’t had anyway. You can’t be done until you actually start. So take a bite.
“No you say you!”
Huh? That’s his phrase … “No you say you!” What does it mean? It means argument over, because there’s no comeback from something that makes no sense at all.
“No you say you!”
Um … Yes … I say … me? (Yeah … I say me lost.)
And the other reason you can’t win is because, if you do try to come back with something like “OK … but you still have to take a bite of dinner,” his next response is …
And what will your rebuttal to that be? pbbbbbt … you ain’t got one cuz you just lost!
Can you imagine if you got to argue like that as an adult?
“Uh, yes, Zack we need to you to come to a surprise meeting right now please”
Yeah that’s what I think of your meeting … pbbbbbbbbt! What are you gonna do about it? Nothin’ … pbbbbbbbbt!
Ahhh … that’d be great.
Oh and it’s not just a stinky three year old … my daughter is six and she knows how to argue dirty too. Let’s say she and her brother are busy running thru the house playing a game where they are trying to chase and tackle each other. Now, we grown ups all know that this game is called “Somebody’s Gonna Cry,” cuz it’s a recipe for disaster, and a trip to the emergency room is just one end of a coffee table away.
So when you say “Can you please stop running? I don’t want you to fall and hit the coffee table.”
“No I won’t”
OK … but … I know you don’t plan on falling, but …
“I won’t fall.”
OK great … argument over. And of course, they do eventually fall. They always fall. Every game ends with at least one of them falling. And when they do, you can’t even rub it in with the “I told you so,” because all they care about now is a band-aid.
“Band-aid … band-aid! WAAAAHHHHH!!! I can’t hear anything you’re saying because I have a tiny bump on my knee and I need a BAND-AIIIIIDDDD!!!!”
Oh Diary … I remember when I used to be in control of stuff. I was the boss. Now, I’m the help. And I am NOT kind, I am NOT smart, and I am NOT important … cuz at the end of the day, I’m the one eating the poop pie and nobody else.
Till next time Diary, I say … goodbye