Children giveaway. Free to first interested party.

Children and golf.  The two things that keep adults humble.  The golf I haven’t experienced first hand but I’ve seen what grown men look on their way back from the course after a less successful day.  The children I can tell you about.

Lately I’ve been very impressed with myself.  I used to think (note the past tense) that I got the hang of the whole stay-at-home-mom thing.  Hah!  I used to think that I have become a lot more patient.  Hah!  I used to think a lot of things.  And after today, “hah!” at all of them.

For some reason the children were unmanageble, unendurable and generally a pain in the butt today.  I can’t put my finger on what exactly was different – they always love each other to bits before they attack each other.  They always want to hear any explanation 17 times.  But phrased differently each time.  Mommy, what will the police do to the bad people?  Mommy, what will the police do to people who aren’t nice?  Mommy, what happens to the bad people when the police catch them?  It feels like an interrogation.  Do they really think they are going to catch me in a lie?  Hah!  I can outlie Wouter, who used to be a polygraph (lie detector) examiner decades ago.  Not that I’ve ever lied to you, you or you.  To you over there on the left, maybe.

Today I really felt what the hen with the multitude of chicks meant in the postcard with the tagline “God, grant me the patience to endure my blessings”.  Chicken, I hear you.

Just as I was getting ready to lock them in separate cupboards in separate rooms and go shopping on my own a friend of mine wrote this about her children.  Proving that it isn’t only my children who are the way they are!

This son of mine, he is so exhausting.

This was my conversation with A (her daughter aged 7) last night.

me : You know what A, because you are the eldest you really get the short end of the stick.

A : What do you mean mom?


And that sums up the day I had.  Of course everything was forgiven when Carien came cuddling and Boeta, upon hearing me say something was fabulous, asking earnestly “Mommy, what does fab-lee-ous mean?  His brain loves big words but his tongue isn’t always up for the action!

One Response

  1. lol!

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