This Used To Be a Funhouse

Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Womanhood, parenting, toddlers

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Now it's full of evil clowns.

Actually, now it's full of toys, garbage, and children who are far too clever and devious for their mother's good. No clowns, thank God. That would really be the icing on the cake, if I had to deal with evil clowns on top of everything else. I'd really need some heavy meds — and serious weapons — then.

So clowns aside, this place really does teeter on being an insane asylum on most days. From the moment they wake up, my girls make it their mission to destroy any sense of order or sanity in our home. Nora even tells Ava, "Come on, Ava! We have work to do!" I think she picked that phrase up from Wonder Pets (if you don't know what I'm talking about, consider yourself a lucky, lucky bitch or bastard), but it is so appropriate in context, I have to smile. The "work" my little hellions have to do is destroy, demolish, and then cackle cruelly as Mama frantically tries to undo the mess.

They take things out of drawers, cabinets, any sort of container, and seem to take particular joy in creating disorder where there was once order. It's not like they are taking specific things out to play with, they are just flinging shit over their shoulders as fast as they can possibly manage. God forbid they manage to reach a box of cereal or rice or flour in the pantry — if I don't catch them in the nick of time, it will be everywhere. Toilet paper rolls — holy shit, if I am so stupid as to leave a bathroom door open, Nora will unroll at breakneck speed and Ava will be mummified, only to eat her way out of her binding. Yes, that's right, Ava eats toilet paper. And she revels in it, making sure I see her tear off a piece and deliberately put it in her mouth. As if to say, "Watch this, Mom. I'm eating paper. Whatcha going to do about it? HUH?"

Nora, at three years old, is a bit more controllable, since she understands right from wrong, and that there will be consequences for her actions. (Am I a spanker, you ask? Hell, yes. I haven't had to do it yet, but I wouldn't hesitate if I thought it necessary). Nora has also developed a devious way of getting around punishment: She becomes immediately remorseful, saying, "Mama, I am so sorry! I am so, so SORRY!" And then she flashes those big blue peepers and stretches her arms out to me… Yeah, try and spank that, you black-hearted wench.

Ava, on the other hand, doesn't give two shits and a piss, and will wreak havoc at every opportunity. If her sister is in it with her, all the better. But if not, she can manage fairly well by herself. When I scold her, she has one response: She screams at the top of her lungs. No, not cry, SCREAM. Like an angry, defiant battle cry. And then she flashes her even BIGGER blue peepers at me and a fucking dimple, for God's sake…

I was such a GOOD kid. Where did I go wrong?

I blame TH's rotten genes. Better that than my mothering, right?

And now, a vintage ad, because it made me vomit a bit in my mouth:

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Permalink | January 17th, 2010

2 Responses to “This Used To Be a Funhouse”

  1. Johanna Says:
    January 17th, 2010 at 8:08 pm

    I was hoping that the destructive tornado would go away after the terrible twos… thanks for ruining that illusion for me. Oh, and I’m pretty sure that if you really asked your parents, they’d say you were a hellion yourself. And you had those big blue peepers to blink at them too.

  2. Brianna Says:
    January 18th, 2010 at 3:19 pm

    Are our children clones of each other or something? Seriously. If the massive amounts of crap they pulled out of EVERYTHING were actually to play with (instead of the empty toilet paper tube, which is apparently The Funnest Toy Ever, despite hundreds of dollars of honest to god toys littering my house) I would be less pissed. Still a little pissed, because they still haven’t grasped the “put back what you take out” concept, but at least I’d know they did it because they actually wanted to get to that particular toy. But no. It’s just to throw on the floor. I sometimes wonder if they sit back and watch me stumble through their insane obstacle course and laugh in their heads. It wouldn’t surprise me.

    Oh, and eating toilet paper? Must be the demented cousin of my youngest’s obsession with licking everything. I mean everything. Including the carpet, the furniture, the aforementioned toys (and empty toilet paper tube), the windows, and people. Disgusting.

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