Case in point.
Yesterday I took all three kids to get a haircut. There were 10 people ahead of us. I should of known then to leave. I had put this off long enough. David's hair looked like the bird woodstock, Tommy, one of the Beatles and Julia's hair was just a plain mess because I tried to cut her bangs myself. While sitting Tommy decided to lay on the floor because I wouldn't let him lay on the couch. David decided Tommy needed to be kicked in the head, arms, legs and back. Julia, well she's my angel. She just sat there. I had Tommy move. David decided to run, bump into things and after awhile just argue with me. After my attempt to talk to him like an adult, then a child I threatened him that I was going to pull down his pants and smack his behind. Which brought pleas of "NO", but no change in behavior. For a kid that does everything in our house in the nude............... (I have more. Him running around outside naked, cleaning the dishes naked, eating breakfast naked.....)
having his pants pulled down makes him think everyone will laugh at his penis. (not that I pull them down so we can all look at his penis.) After the pants came down and the butt got some air David immediately stopped and sat on my lap. After getting hair cuts we had another moment in the sub shop where there was arguing, crying, yelling etc. Of course it couldn't go smoothly.
On the way home to drown out the arguing (b/c why would it end there) I cranked up my rock station. AC/DC came on and it was the song where they play the bag pipes. Tommy announced he wanted bag pipes. I started thinking about this. How cool would that be? He could play at St. Patrick's Day parties and be the coolest kid. I could see him now at a party, jamming on the pipes. The girls would swoon. I made a mental note to look into bagpipes. He then announced he didn't want lessons he just wanted to blow them in his sister's ear. There goes that fantasy.
There was another valium moment this morning. Tommy came down crying about his too short haircut. Decided he wasn't going to school. Cried, ooooh for about an hour. Yeah, she did cut his hair short, but he's a boy for the love of God. Are all middle children chronic complainers? Hmmm, "marcia, marcia, marcia"............ maybe so.
Now the latest fight was over the gardening hoe. Wait I'm not done, then it was over a 4 ft piece of wood. I'm sure my old (in age) neighbors can't stand me or the kids. You would of thought someone had their arm cut off.
It's off to a baseball game and no run because the dear husband has a work dinner. So I shall chase the littlest around the park, train tracks, watch 2 minutes of the game all the time wishing I had a valium.