Having three kids means one is always behaving less than perfect. It's a rotation of who is being the pain in the ass though. Sometimes it's Sonya with her backtalk and eye rolls. Other times the colossal Lana tantrums are what bring me down. Lately though it's been my sweet little Georgia peach who has been driving me bonkers. I'm not exactly sure why this is. Could be the whole -little sister not getting enough attention thing. All I know is she is having a hard time making the right choices and listening lately. Once you get to the third one you just kinda don't feel like it anymore. I know, I know, I'm a terrible mom, but I can't help it. The energy to deal is just gone. The thing about Georgia though, is no matter how bad she is acting or what she is doing that is not right, she is always the one who is trying to be the comedian. I'm beginning to realize that is what makes it harder for me to discipline her. Don't worry, I've been coming down on her lately and trying to get her back in line. I'm not completely letting it go. However if your little one was saying some of these things to you, you might have a hard time keeping the punishments going too. Here are just some of the things I've written down that she's said to me over the past few months.
While playing outside one day last month, Andy noticed Georgia only had socks and not shoes on. So Andy asked,
"Georgia-where are your shoes?"
Georgia looked down at her feet like she was just as surprised as he was and said, "Not on my feet!"
Continuing in the shoe category...
One day she came home from school and took off the tights she was wearing and said to me,
"Ahhh! It feels so great for my feet to be back!"
Looks like confined feet are just not her thing.
We were doing homework one night and I was helping her. Her class is learning how to tell time and she needed help to figure out where to put the hands to make it 7:00 on the empty clock face picture. She had the little hand in the right place.
"Well the little hand is on the seven, that's right, good job. Now where does the big hand go?"
She thought for a minute and then got excited and shouted, "At the o'clock!!"
I mean, can I really say she's wrong?
Not to long after Christmas was over, but after the decorations were put away, she came to me one afternoon and out of the blue asked,
"Mommy, does Santa die?"
These are the questions that you have to think carefully about before you answer them. The standard answer of,
"No, he's magic," is really the only way to handle this delicate situation.
She responded with, "Ok! Phew!"
Who knows how long that one was weighing on her mind?
We are not a particularly religious family. We go to church at Christmas and Easter, and if the girls ask we will answer questions about God and religion. We don't pray on a regular basis either, (much to my mother's dismay, no doubt). However, every once in a while the girls will request to pray before dinner. We always let them. One night Lana made such a request, so she said her little prayer and then Georgia decided she wanted in on the action too. This was her prayer,
"Dear God, Thank you for this food and our clothes. Not everyone has clothes and food and that's sad because they are naked and starving. Amen."
The kid does speak the truth. Hope you are listening God.
The last one I wrote down happened most recently. It was just over the weekend and it's a bit more of a story. I've mentioned on here before how much like her father Georgia is with this sense of humor. Along with the sense of humor my husband has, comes a very large amount of sarcasm. This is something kids just don't get at a young age. When you are sarcastic to them they don't always understand. This has never stopped Andy from being sarcastic anyway. Now that they are getting older they understand it more, but not always. Hell there are times I still don't get when he's being sarcastic and pulling one over on me. He's really good at it. So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
On Sunday morning, after having an extremely busy Friday and Saturday, we were all dragging ourselves out of bed to get the day started. I was in the kitchen getting the coffee ready and Georgia was sitting at the counter. She started to cough a bit and sniffle, and so I asked,
"Are you sick?"
Now this was stupid on my part, because anytime you offer for something to be wrong with Georgia she will take it. The more attention she can get, the better. As soon as I said it, I knew my mistake and I knew she was feeling fine, but she immediately went into "woe is me" mode, and and said in a meek voice, "yes."
"I think I'm sick mom, (cough, cough, sniff, sniff)." She told me.
Then in my "I'm not buying your shit" voice, I said, "Oh I'm sure you will be fine. If you're not, you won't be able to go to the birthday party today."
I didn't offer her any sympathy, which I know irritated her, but she wanted to go to the birthday party, so she decided not to push the act anymore.
About five minutes later, Lana came to me whimpering because she had hit her head on her bookcase. I had yet to have my cup of coffee, and after going out with the moms the night before, really needed it before dealing with such complaints. Although, let me be clear, she did not seem to be in pain and I have always been the type of mom who has leaned more toward the tough it out, shake it off side of things when the girls got hurt. I was never one for babying them when they hurt themselves, unless something looked bad. Usually it isn't. As a result, I have some tough girls who barely ever cry when they get hurt. So when Lana came to me complaining about her bump I sorta blew her off too.
"Oookayy," I told her. "You'll be fine, shake it off." (I'm pretty certain Taylor Swift must have heard me saying that every day for the past 10 years. Whatever Taylor! Just send the royalty check to Burbank. ) She didn't even try to milk it anymore, just walked away rubbing her head.
Georgia had been in the kitchen with us when she heard me talking to Lana, as unsympathetically as I had been to her, and she said out loud to nobody in particular, but making sure I heard her,
"It's sooo nice to have a Mommy who takes such good care of us when we're sick or hurt."
It was one of those things you hear a few seconds after it was said. And then it took me a few more seconds to register what it meant. My brain did something like this-"that's so nice that Georgia would say that... but wait... I wasn't being nice and taking good care of them at all...so why would she..."
"Georgia?" She turned and looked at me. "Were you just being sarcastic??" I asked.
"Yeah," she admitted. And then I laughed, and laughed some more. She started to laugh right along with me and then everyone else in the house wanted to know what on earth was so funny.
Georgia. Georgia is what is so funny. Right now, at this point in time of raising my girls, she is the reason why I am ready to tear my hair out at the end of the day. However, she is also the reason I laugh every day. So please excuse me if I have a difficult time handing out punishments to her that make her upset. I find it much more fun to laugh with her.
While playing outside one day last month, Andy noticed Georgia only had socks and not shoes on. So Andy asked,
"Georgia-where are your shoes?"
Georgia looked down at her feet like she was just as surprised as he was and said, "Not on my feet!"
Continuing in the shoe category...
One day she came home from school and took off the tights she was wearing and said to me,
"Ahhh! It feels so great for my feet to be back!"
Looks like confined feet are just not her thing.
We were doing homework one night and I was helping her. Her class is learning how to tell time and she needed help to figure out where to put the hands to make it 7:00 on the empty clock face picture. She had the little hand in the right place.
"Well the little hand is on the seven, that's right, good job. Now where does the big hand go?"
She thought for a minute and then got excited and shouted, "At the o'clock!!"
I mean, can I really say she's wrong?
Not to long after Christmas was over, but after the decorations were put away, she came to me one afternoon and out of the blue asked,
"Mommy, does Santa die?"
These are the questions that you have to think carefully about before you answer them. The standard answer of,
"No, he's magic," is really the only way to handle this delicate situation.
She responded with, "Ok! Phew!"
Who knows how long that one was weighing on her mind?
We are not a particularly religious family. We go to church at Christmas and Easter, and if the girls ask we will answer questions about God and religion. We don't pray on a regular basis either, (much to my mother's dismay, no doubt). However, every once in a while the girls will request to pray before dinner. We always let them. One night Lana made such a request, so she said her little prayer and then Georgia decided she wanted in on the action too. This was her prayer,
"Dear God, Thank you for this food and our clothes. Not everyone has clothes and food and that's sad because they are naked and starving. Amen."
The kid does speak the truth. Hope you are listening God.
The last one I wrote down happened most recently. It was just over the weekend and it's a bit more of a story. I've mentioned on here before how much like her father Georgia is with this sense of humor. Along with the sense of humor my husband has, comes a very large amount of sarcasm. This is something kids just don't get at a young age. When you are sarcastic to them they don't always understand. This has never stopped Andy from being sarcastic anyway. Now that they are getting older they understand it more, but not always. Hell there are times I still don't get when he's being sarcastic and pulling one over on me. He's really good at it. So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
On Sunday morning, after having an extremely busy Friday and Saturday, we were all dragging ourselves out of bed to get the day started. I was in the kitchen getting the coffee ready and Georgia was sitting at the counter. She started to cough a bit and sniffle, and so I asked,
"Are you sick?"
Now this was stupid on my part, because anytime you offer for something to be wrong with Georgia she will take it. The more attention she can get, the better. As soon as I said it, I knew my mistake and I knew she was feeling fine, but she immediately went into "woe is me" mode, and and said in a meek voice, "yes."
"I think I'm sick mom, (cough, cough, sniff, sniff)." She told me.
Then in my "I'm not buying your shit" voice, I said, "Oh I'm sure you will be fine. If you're not, you won't be able to go to the birthday party today."
I didn't offer her any sympathy, which I know irritated her, but she wanted to go to the birthday party, so she decided not to push the act anymore.
About five minutes later, Lana came to me whimpering because she had hit her head on her bookcase. I had yet to have my cup of coffee, and after going out with the moms the night before, really needed it before dealing with such complaints. Although, let me be clear, she did not seem to be in pain and I have always been the type of mom who has leaned more toward the tough it out, shake it off side of things when the girls got hurt. I was never one for babying them when they hurt themselves, unless something looked bad. Usually it isn't. As a result, I have some tough girls who barely ever cry when they get hurt. So when Lana came to me complaining about her bump I sorta blew her off too.
"Oookayy," I told her. "You'll be fine, shake it off." (I'm pretty certain Taylor Swift must have heard me saying that every day for the past 10 years. Whatever Taylor! Just send the royalty check to Burbank. ) She didn't even try to milk it anymore, just walked away rubbing her head.
Georgia had been in the kitchen with us when she heard me talking to Lana, as unsympathetically as I had been to her, and she said out loud to nobody in particular, but making sure I heard her,
"It's sooo nice to have a Mommy who takes such good care of us when we're sick or hurt."
It was one of those things you hear a few seconds after it was said. And then it took me a few more seconds to register what it meant. My brain did something like this-"that's so nice that Georgia would say that... but wait... I wasn't being nice and taking good care of them at all...so why would she..."
"Georgia?" She turned and looked at me. "Were you just being sarcastic??" I asked.
"Yeah," she admitted. And then I laughed, and laughed some more. She started to laugh right along with me and then everyone else in the house wanted to know what on earth was so funny.
Georgia. Georgia is what is so funny. Right now, at this point in time of raising my girls, she is the reason why I am ready to tear my hair out at the end of the day. However, she is also the reason I laugh every day. So please excuse me if I have a difficult time handing out punishments to her that make her upset. I find it much more fun to laugh with her.
