Mean Mommy

Parenting is so interesting.  It's challenging and rewarding and confusing and poignant.  And no matter how much you think you are teaching these little people, most of the time they teach you as well.  And then there are the times that are just plain funny...

Last night I was at the end of my mommy rope.  You know, the metaphorical rope that you tie around your frustration and agitation to keep it in check...the one you sometimes want to use to tie your kids up so you can curl up in a corner and read a good book and eat some kind of sweet treat in peace...or take a bath...or a nap!...or go for a run...  Anyway, I was at the end of that rope because of two little kiddos who would. not. go. to. sleep.  They were so tired that if they just stopped talking for 30 seconds I knew they'd be out.  They'd each done the requests for more water, a trip to the bathroom, extra hugs/kisses, asking how to spell words, wondering what the score of the Timberwolves game was, and basically anything else they could think of to keep their mouths working so their eyes didn't shut.

After yet another version of "Mom, he's is looking at me!"/"Mom, she won't stop singing!" that rope snapped and I marched into their room and said the first thing that came to mind.  "If I hear a single word out of this room again, I'm going to write a letter to the Easter Bunny and tell him that you two have not been behaving and that you should NOT get an Easter Basket for Easter!"

Silence.

Brendan's head popped up, his eyes round as saucers, and he loudly whispered, "Wow, Mom.  That's...mean."

I said one final good-night, walked down the hall, and burst out laughing at the memory of his response.  Geez.  That was mean.

But I didn't hear a peep for the rest of the night.