No, I’m not stupid. I know how to spell, thank you very much. But for the sake of this blog, I had to find a creative way to express today’s post in, dum dum dum, four letter word(s).
I know that there are rules to follow and the first and most important one is to not talk about “Fight Club.” But in order to keep my sanity I just have to break the code of silence. The other day, actually more like everyday, I witnessed a fight going on where I’m always the referee. I hate getting in the middle of a fight and this one just felt wrong from the moment it began. I know how and why the fight started but considering one of the fighter was twice as big just didn’t seem fair. That’s like putting Brad Pitt in the ring with Tom Cruise. He’s way taller than Tom. Well, everyone’s taller than Tom. But I still love him, short or not! What’s that? You want to know what my definition of fair is? Vin Diesel vs The Rock. Just saw Fast Five last night and felt a fantasy come true, but I was disappointed with the Vin Diesel/The Rock fight scene. I guess I was expecting a hard on, but sadly, I stayed limp the whole time. Now back to the story.
So I’m in my living room and all of a sudden I hear a loud thump. Then the most annoying screeching irritating sound you can ever imagine happened. My eardrums are busted and will never recover. If you haven’t figured this out by now, I’m talking about my rug rats. The 3 year old and the 1 year old were going at it like they are in the Fight Club movie. Currently, my son hates his little sister. He can’t stand the sight of her. It used to be only when she burst out with her screams that he’d come up to her, tilts his head, gives her the stare of death and then pushes her. Now her mere existence makes him turn from Edward Norton into Brad Pitt’s character. This is also how I know for a fact my son is not deaf. He can be upstairs in his room playing and she will be downstairs with her, “I want what I want and if you don’t give it to me, I’m going to scream you to death” scream and he’ll stop whatever he’s doing, walks downstairs just to push her. Then to make matters worse, she’ll come up to his face just to do her scream and it’s all hell from there.
I don’t get it. I mean, I know there’s going to be sibling fights, but for the last year, it was never really an issue. He tolerated her until now. I remember when she was born and my husband brought Tee to the hospital to meet his little sister and he ran in the corner sobbing. He was confused, but I think in his mind, she was just a visitor. So everyday when he wakes up, he’d be so happy and then he walks downstairs and sees his little sister and he would have this look on his face like, “You’re still here?” And then they became, “When are you leaving?” And now it’s come to, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? IT’S BEEN OVER A YEAR! GET YOUR SHIT AND GET OUT!!“
To be fair, it’s also partly her fault. She provokes him. He’s playing with something, she has to take it from him. If he refuses, she does the scream of death. She sees him doing something, she does it. She follows him around everywhere. She is suffocating the shit out of him. But now Tee has this mind set of, “If I can’t make you leave, I’m going to put an end to you.” Just yesterday we were playing with play dough. Let me tell you how smart this little guy who can’t talk for shit is. He pretended to eat the play dough so she’ll eat it. I’m telling her, “No Em, not in the mouth. That’s yucky. Dangerous.” And he just kept doing it. Shoving the play dough in his closed mouth.
I turned my back for a minute and he breaks a drinking glass (I think we’re down to 4 now from 12!). I turned my head around and he’s nowhere to be found. I see my little girl with eyes so big probably trying to figure out how she can tell me her big brother is “The Good Son.” The other evening he took everything out of the kitchen cabinets, and I mean everything. I saw the whole thing happened but I thought they were playing together so I left them alone. Then I realized I have to clean all that shit up later and walked over there to find only Em playing by herself, with all the mess on the floor. He ran in the living room, pretended he was there the whole time, walked over to the kitchen and looked at me as if to say, “See mom. I told you she’s a trouble maker. Just drop her ass off at the fire station. Better yet, lets put her on craigslist. I’m sure someone out there will take her for free. You’ll thank me later.”
So what do I do? How do other mommies deal with crazy kids? I put both of them on time outs. I make them kiss each other after every fight. I thought maybe the thought of kissing his little sister would make him stop, but no. I can’t take them in the car, or shopping together like we used to. It’s always bickering and scratching and pinching and pushing and screaming. I’m embarrassed to go out in public. If my life were a movie, it would be “Fight Club” and “The Good Son” mixed with “Look Who’s Talking” and “American Psycho” and that movie with Sigourney Weaver where she was traumatized about almost being killed by a serial killer causing her to not go outside. Oh, also “The Net” with Sandra Bullock. Everyday I’m reminded of how far I’ve come from my old movie life of “Bridget Jones Diary” and “Serendipity” and “The Notebook” with a hint of “Clueless” and “Dirty Dancing.” Time sure have changed.
How about you? What’s your movie life like?
Til next time,
C to the A to the T to the E.
This is Tee before little sister:
And Tee after: