Over the Top

Where is my easy button?

Why, when doing laundry, am I missing not only socks, but also pants? Jake has no pants. Where did they go? Not just the khaki, dress ‘em like lesbians pants, but his jeans. I’ve looked under the bed. I’ve looked behind the dryer. I’ve looked in the other boy’s dressers.

Nothing. Nada. Zip.

Why, when you’re on the phone with someone you are trying to be calm, cool and collected with, do the kids have the worst, screaming fights? I was on the phone with a colleague a few minutes ago and I heard the Ben screaming, DON’T SPIT ON ME JAKE!

How do you gracefully exit a call about addressing the well being of small children in our society to go kill your own?

How do I go from the greatest mom on earth for arranging a viewing of Ben’s favorite show- American Idol- with a friend he hasn’t seen in a for a while- MOM! Thankyouthankyouthankyou, you so rock- to someone who is, and this is a direct quote, “trying to ruin my life!”

It’s a talent, I wanted to say but simply closed his bedroom door so the rant would no longer be heard throughout the house, down the street…

Why do I have to say, No throwing rocks, every day to Jake? I know, Mom, but… and he always goes on to describe a great wrong he could not bear to let pass by without an appropriate retaliation. Rock throwing is always the appropriate retaliation. Maybe I should try that with my family of origin.

I have to go make dinner- something everyone will hate due to the vegetable content, I’m sure. Once, one night, I would love it if the kids said, Wow. You’re making us broccoli? You must really love us.

And give me a big hug of thanks.

Okay, that's over the top.

Like I said, where’s my easy button?