Button Pushers

The following message has not been fabricated.

My kids have me figured out. Unfortunately, it took me a little longer to figure myself out, but we won't visit there today. Now that I've caught up with them, I'm on to them and life will surely improve.

Excuse me, I have a child who wants me.

So, anyway, excuse me, I have a kid who needs me.

Like I was say--excuse me, I have a kid who needs me.

Where was I? Oh, yes. As I was saying, my kids know how to push my buttons. I knew they did, but since I didn't know exactly what they were up to, I didn't know how to deal with it. I just delivered my expected response--understanding the first time,

excuse me, I have a kid who needs me.

irritated more and more as the day progresses, and finally the grand finale,

excuse me.

the blow up where I (bad mom!) scream something along the lines of "Stop it! Stop it! I don't have to spend every waking minute with you guys! Why do you think there are three of you? Entertain yourselves! Go Play!"

They always manage to look (and I think genuinely feel) hurt and sulk off for about 30 seconds so that I can feel guilty and by the time they come back (31 seconds later) I will quit whatever I'm doing and jump to.

Excuse me, my child needs me.

And when do they do this? You tell me. See, if I'm cleaning house (which I'm more than glad to stop doing just about any time of day),

excuse me

they leave me alone or help. If I'm cooking with a deadline (mealtime when everyone is starved) they fight, or "need" me, or want something to eat ("If you would just stop asking for food every ten seconds, I'd have food and you'd quit being hungry!"). If I'm stan

excuse me.

If I'm standing in the kitchen looking out the window they leave me alone. No wonder I know so much about my neighbors that I've never met. If the kids aren't in the room I may decide to sneak towards the stairs so I can check my email. I kid you not, they

excuse me

hear the stairs squeak and come running. They may have played alone for 45 minutes but they hear my behind hit the desk chair and it's all over. What should have taken me four minutes to write has now lasted probably 30 minutes. I've changed CDs, wiped noses, called down the name calling,

excuse me

"been with," made toast, cleaned up marker boy, given out jobs,

excuse me,

listened, encouraged, praised...the list goes on and on.

excuse me

None life threatening, but sanity threatening? You betcha.

Don't even get me started about the phone.

excuse me.

If any

excuse me,

If anything, I didn't put in as many interruptions as there really were.