Reclamation And Hard Feelings

It’s an understatement to say things have been a little chaotic around here. A total understatement. Mommy has been down for what seems like the entire month of May. Now if you haven’t noticed, I’m the one that rules the roost. I’m the disciplinary. I’m the shopper. I do the majority of the cleaning. I do all of the laundry. I do a lot of the yard work. I keep the schedules. I’m a stickler for routine. I’m the one that puts the end to all the wrestling before someone gets hurt.

For the past few weeks Fun Dad has had to hold the reigns. Hours of video games. No chores being done. New bags of candy entering the house EVERY. SINGLE. DAY! The full size mattress on the living room floor for three weeks straight. The boys sleeping where ever they please. Movies till 9pm. Happy Meals. Donuts.

Now I’m used to Dad being the “fun one” and me being the “disciplinary.” That’s just how it is. Does it bother me sometimes, yes I admit it does. There have been times, on a Saturday, my son will say “Aren’t you going to work so we can just stay home with dad?” Ouch. Or I get, “Mom can you lay down with me until Dad is done doing his stuff? Then you need to leave so Dad can sleep with me.” Mom is good enough until Dad is around. Well they have had weeks of “Fun Dad.” Halt!! Mom’s back guys. Sorry about it.

I cleaned the house. I went to the grocery store to buy sensible food with nutritional value. I put the mattress back into the spare room. I hid the four bags of gummy sharks. I put fresh sheets on their beds and returned all the blankets and pillows to their rightful place. I’m reclaiming my home. I’m getting things back to “normal.” I’m evil.

They were nearly in tears when I went through the drive-thru to get coffee and I didn’t buy them donuts! I wasn’t their number one fan when they asked for a snack and their only options given were strawberries, crackers, or a granola bar. They complained when I told them they had to use shampoo! But all and all we got through the weekend. We enjoyed a nice healthy meal together. Then bedtime came and it all hit the fan. The whining, the tears, the absolute sobbing. How dare they have to sleep in their own beds!! What the hell kind of mother am I?

So I’m sticking to my guns. I’m reclaiming order and routine in my house. And I’m the bad guy. Oh well. At least they still love me. I did get a request from Deacon, “I need to get a stuffed animal that is just like your cheeks.” That’s love, right?