Just another usual Sunday. Waking up with all sorts of hope that some scrap of sitting iwth a coffee and reading the NYTimes might happen, only to end up with a kid in her room in time-out because she was kicking me after I took her away from the table after she shoved her cup and plate across it, after I told her she had to mix juice with water if she wanted any juice.
One of those golden moments in parenting that never seem to make it onto any mother's brag list the next week. Sheesh, how did we get here again?
Time out (two of them actually) over, in the living room now, and this time it is M coming up with 10 reasons I shouldn't start building the IKEA shoe cabinets until I know 100% for sure which ones have to be returned (two of the three I bought have a slightly - 2cm - different height listed on the box, probably due to some phasing in of a new design under the same barcode), after telling me earlier this week that the thing he hates most are the moving boxes we are currently using for shoe storage in the hallway. Now I'm on the receiving end of the lose, and it is clear to me why this tactic sucks. At least, being on the receiving end. And that is where A was this morning. I was winning and so we were both losing.
Winning an argument through logic often leads to alienating the person you "won" against, and that isn't the end of goal of most relationships. Not an easy lesson, especially for an academic (either me or M) who keeps seeing logic held in the highest esteem in daily life. Academics can really suck at cooperation and giving in. Turns out, we bring it all too easily home to the breakfast table, too. And then the living room, the bathroom and a handful of other places where it is the last thing we should be emphasizing.
Given how I felt after M won and I put the pieces of the dresser I'd chosen to build back in the box, no wonder A was kicking me earlier this morning.
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