Insane is My New Name

Forewarning...I am writing this with only half a cup of coffee in my system

S3 and S4 have been on this kick lately...either they fight like no one else or they are adorable like no one else.

Example:

They arrive home from school and help each other get a glass, milk and cookie.  Best of buds.  They decide to go outside to toss the football back and forth.  Within five minutes they are screaming at each other, wrestling the other to the ground, shoving and pushing each other around.  Did I mention screaming?, it bears repeating. 

Because I continue to say, "You two are brothers and you will be FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE so figure this out", I try to let them hash it out themselves.  I cringe through the exchange and every once in awhile I have to separate them because they need to be separated.

At night, when they have gone to bed (finally), I sit down, hold my head in my hands and want to cry.  I am emotionally and physically exhausted.  I peer through my fingers at my husband and groan, "They are driving me insane....."

He laughs.

I am serious.

Last week the three youngest boys announced they are going to be in the church Christmas program.  Daddy said they could. Mama was going to make sure they weren't because she didn't want to do the practice running.  Daddy won.

The Christmas Play is a Spelling Bee Musical.  We have a cd.

We must listen to the cd because the boys need to know the songs and their lines.

So, we get in the suburban and the Christmas musical cd in on and singing "S P E L L I N G B E E" all happy high-pitched kid like.  You parents know what I mean.  It hurts your ears it is so high-pitched, happy, scrape your fingernail along the chalkboard sounding.  And the music is so loud as to soak into them that they might absorb the words.  They need to know every song, every line and all their friends lines too.

Today, I am listening to this super happy high-pitched singing and actually missed the moments that all I had to do is deal with them fighting over who hit who with a wad of paper or stole the others hat.

This morning I had only time to suck down a half a cup of coffee as I was walking out the door and had no time to make myself coffee for the ride, I am certain that has to do with some of my insanity at the moment.  However, if you see me with my head twitching to some weird beat and my eyes buggy eyed out and me singing in a chant sort of way, "Be nice, S P E L L I N G B E E, be nice, S P E L L I N G B E E," you will understand why.

Place coffee in my hand.

Perhapes consider kidnapping me.

And pray I make it through this current phase in our lives. 

Brotherly Love

This morning, my boys were at it.

As in, "Uh! I am going to tell on you!"

You know, there is not enough coffee in the WORLD to make that whining bearable in the morning.  Or any time, for that matter.  Whining is soooo, oh, wait, now I am whining. I hate whining.

So, as I stood in the shower wishing I could still be sleeping, S4 whips the shower curtain aside (there are two shower curtains, but still, privacy has never occurred to him) and tattled on his brother, S3.

S3, for all his sweetness to others, is the prime antagonizer of his brothers.  It's really an art form for him.

It was obvious that S3 was the guilty one by his tears as soon as I approached him, wrapped in pink bath towels on my way to the bedroom to get dressed.  His lips quivered and he began to mumble why he wasn't to blame but his mumbling wasn't making much sense.

And I hadn't said a word to him yet.  This further proved his guilt.

"Listen, you two have to learn to get along.  You are going to be brothers FOR THE REST OF  YOUR LIFE, so you might as well get along.  Hug your brother and think of five nice things about him."

I left them on their own to sort it out...and so I could get dressed.

And finally drink a cup of coffee.

They must have made up grandly, I figured, because while I was pouring the blessed french press coffee into my mug (Starbucks Blonde Blend, Willow is my current new favorite), all four boys were outside.

Around five this morning we had a brief rain shower hit us.  The boys, getting ready for school, noticed the rain splatters and did what every boy does when it rains...

They run for their bikes.

They were racing around the driveway seeing who could splatter more mud.  Then they began to try to do burn outs - ok, I think they are called burn outs but I am not really sure of the correct wording - on the freshly mowed now wet grass.

They were laughing hysterically.

They all clambered into the suburban covered in mud and wet grass.

I assure you they were clean at one point this morning.  It just didn't last long.

But all that mud was worth all their giggles and squeals and laughs this morning.

The afternoon went well when they arrived home.  I had my nephews here and we made cupcakes to surprise them with. (As I type this, there are NO MORE cupcakes left.  They devoured every one.)  The boys all played well.  I honestly had forgotten about the fight this morning.

As I was dishing out dinner, S4 announced, "Mama, S3 still has not said five things he likes about me."

S3 groaned, slapped his hand on his forehead, and slumped at the table.  Five NICE things about your brother is just about impossible, I suppose.

What do you do to keep your kiddos getting along? Any new tricks I need to try?