There is no possible way that I can count how many times I must have said “C’mon ________![insert name of whichever of the 3 children were disobeying at the time]” over the course of this past weekend. I feel confident this is the approach all the parenting books must suggest. Exasperatingly grousing “c’mon” which we all know is the equivalent of “really?” or “seriously?” followed by “get your stinking hind end over here.” But it came out all weekend as “c’mon!”
Let me set the stage. Last week was insane. Our precious nanny was on vacation so the kids’ care was a combination of a “Wee Camp” (where they screamed BLOODY murder when I left them in the morning & was certain it would involve years of expensive therapy later in life because I went to work and abandoned the poor darlings) and my mother and mother-in-law watching them after camp let out from 2 to 5 pm. Both our moms are older and were completely exhausted by the Texas Tornadoes, as they aptly nicknamed them. Upon completing this Monday through Thursday schedule mix up, we then traveled to the family farm on Friday for the weekend to wrap up Bray’s birthday celebrations. Well, of course, the baby had contracted some nasty disease from being around a bunch of snotty Wee Campers, he is very susceptible to respiratory ailments, so we proceeded to move into the terrible hacking/fever/crying/sleepless phase. At the farm. Then………the mosquitoes were as thick as thieves in Louisiana, and while the children just wanted to hang out with the cows and tractors, even slathered with bug spray, the mosquitoes nearly carried them off to their lair. That doesn’t even factor in the heat. Which left us inside, in a home filled with beautiful breakable collectibles, with sick 22 month olds. And yes, by Sunday morning, all FIVE of us were sick. Happy birthday to you, right?
Which brings us to the oft-repeated “c’mon!”
“Let’s go put your shoes on. C’mon A!”
“Let’s get our hand out of the toilet. C’mon B!”
“Let’s not carry around priceless crystal. C’mon C!”
Everything was followed, eventually, with c’mon because I do not believe I am exaggerating when I tell you they did not follow any command given to them the first time it was given this weekend. At home, my kids are pretty helpful. “Let’s put our books away before we go outside…” and off they go throwing books in our bin. “Please bring me your shoes so we can go walking……” and off they run to find their shoes. “Hop in your chair, it’s time for snack…” and running they go, pell-mell, climbing into their chairs eagerly anticipating Annie’s Bunnies (this a is a whole other post, but God Bless whoever Annie is, those Annie’s Bunnies are the most valuable commodity on the planet in toddler land and I feel moderately less guilty since they’re organic wheat…..). But oh no, not this weekend. They literally laughed in my face at any command. And that was the only time they laughed because they didn’t feel good. How can I make my children cheer up? Give them a command they can freewheelingly disobey.
I am exhausted. And a little under the weather. And after our doctor’s appointment this morning, it turns out that joy of a Wee Camp left us with a respiratory infection and pink eye.
But……..it’s a new week, my nanny has returned, my children now have medicine and a happy home to co-exist in, and I leave Wednesday to speak at a conference in Austin which (sadly) is being hosted at the Four Seasons where I’ll be forced to stay for two nights with no children 🙂 I’m sorry, this is Austin not London, so I’m really not all that sad about this brief departure after the past week. I hope that doesn’t contribute to their therapy bill…………
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