My little Wrestlers

So my kids have been sick for a week and a half at least. Coughing, runny nose and lots of whining.  So couple that with normal holiday stress and I am pulling my hair out.  So even though I was dog tired yesterday morning from ringing in the New Year I got us all dressed and dragged myself to church. My kids needed the outing and I needed to feed my spirit. After church there was a lull in the coughing so I decided to do some grocery shopping. My local store WEGMANS has a great play place for the kids. You can leave them for up to 90 minutes in a fantastic well supervised environment while peacefully shopping or sitting in the cafe drinking a cup of coffee. My kids love this place and it is always a treat for me to know they are having fun and I get a few grown up minutes to myself. So I got to the store made everyone go to the bathroom then trotted my little guys to the play place.  Only one other kid was there but I knew the boys would enjoy the toys and the care providers. I blew kisses and waved goodbye and headed for the coffee counter. I roamed the store with no real purpose just sipping my coffee and enjoying myself when all of a sudden over the loud speaker I hear myself being paged to the play room! My first thought is that someone has to go poop. As I walk up to the door expecting one or more children holding themselves and dancing around I am met with an apologetic faced teen. “I am so sorry but your boys were fighting and the Goon is bleeding  “. Um WHAT!!!!  I looked into the room and sure enough there sat my little monsters. The Goon was bleeding from a scratch on his cheek and sobbing hysterical and Noodle was pouting angrily with his little fists clenched.  Great I am not That Mom with Those Kids.

 

I put on my best “Mom Voice” and tried to reprimand him with all of the correct phrases I learned on Dr. Phil and Oprah.  All I wanted to do was yell at them but I kept my coo.l Then of course had to make them walk around the store with me while I got the actual groceries I needed since I had squandered all my time drinking coffee.  So for the next 20 minutes I walked around the store while both kids cried. The Goon cried because his face hurt and he wanted me to buy him something.  Noodle cried because he felt it was really his brothers fault and he should not lose privileges when he got home. It seems that the boys were playing video games and Goon didn’t like something so he slapped his big brother and then Noodle scratched him back.  Lovely.

 

I can not even begin to tell you how many times we have had the “your brother is your best friend” conversation.  Or the “we don’t hit when we are mad” conversation.  Most days I feel more like a referee than a mother. I try to let them work out their little squabbles and disagreements and step in when they are yelling or start hitting each other.  I sometimes wonder if having them so close together, which was by choice, was a really bad idea.  I am told all the time that they are boys and boys will be boys. But I really hate that saying. I don’t see why just because they are boys I should allow them to literally wrestle out all of their issues.  I hate grown up men who think they have to fight or be physical so am I just raising my kids to be a couple of Tools? I feel like I am talking to a wall I don’t fight with my husband we never yell at each other. We certainly don’t hit each other or throw things. So where do they get it from. Most of the cartoons they watch are the same ones I watched as a kid. So here I sit saying another New Years prayer that my boys will grow up to be great men. To love each other to be good partners and productive members of society. That they will come to dinner at my house once a week and mow my lawn. I pray they will be safe and healthy that they will grow up strong and happy. I also pray that they will not grow up to be WWF Wrestlers even though I am sure that is a lucrative career.