children, humor, kids, mommyhood, motherhood, parenting

Have Smack-Down, Will Travel

Table football (Bonzini style table).
Image via Wikipedia

We were at the gym as a family.  Even though Full Speed grumbled over having to go to the kids’ zone it was still a mostly successful outing.  As we were wrapping things up to head to lunch, Mad Dog received a work call.  While he was resolving the issue at hand, I grabbed the boys and headed to the foosball table in the gym’s common area.   The game between the boys started off nicely enough and then their competitive spirit had things heading south in a hurry.  A physical altercation was brewing and I saw some karate chops to the head in T.Puzzle’s near future. When Mad Dog was finally able to join us he made the snap decision that we needed to get out of there fast.  I didn’t see the hurry because my boys are going to be crazy no matter where they are.  Foosball table or not, smack-downs will happen.  Mad Dog completely agreed with me (smart man).  However, he thought it was best to relocate to a place where nobody would recognize us.

Good call.

bad day, mommyhood, tantrums, terrible threes

Oh Smack!

I had this crazy idea that I would take the boys for haircuts. They have been rocking the mohawk look and it’s amazing how quickly it grew out. My plan was to pick Full Speed up from school and take both boys directly to the children’s salon. It is a pretty fantastic set-up. There’s a foosball table, an indoor climbing structure with a slide and an endless array of cool vehicles to sit in and watch Nickelodeon while getting your hair trimmed. They had a splendid time. I played foosball with Full Speed who insisted he was winning no matter how many times I scored. “That one didn’t count, Mom, only mine did,” (of course). Little T.Puzzle took to the slide like a fish to water (more fish similies later; I know you can’t wait but don’t get your gills in a tangle). They both did great for their trim and I was feeling really glad to have it done. Haircuts usually eat into our precious, weekend family time and I had just saved us the hassle. Win, win for sure.

Until,… it was time to leave. Little T.Puzzle absolutely refuses to leave and makes a scramble for the back of the slide structure. He is just about out of reach when I manage to grab his leg. He immediately starts screaming. Full Speed tries to help and yanks on the other leg. Full Speed accidentally tugs off little T.Puzzle’s croc in this muddled process. I see that this is a hot-button for T.Puzzle because he is really starting to lose it. As I manage to wrestle him into my arms (and by now, a crowd of sorts has gathered to watch the show), little T.Puzzle throws his arm back and smacks me squarely on the face.

I take him outside and all hell breaks loose. He’s screaming so loud I can’t think straight. I try to maneuver him to a time-out spot and quickly realize that he is violently flopping about like a dying fish so I can’t. I scoop him up and head to the truck. I grab his other croc from his foot and say he can’t have them back because he slapped me.

He is inconsolable. He cries and yells the whole way home. He is so upset he almost makes himself vomit. I get him home, send him to his room and try to regroup.

This is all stuff I’ve seen before. This isn’t the first time I’ve been smacked by one of my sons (hopefully it’s the last) and this isn’t the first outrageous tantrum I’ve endured.

But seriously, isn’t it enough already?