I do not negotiate with terrorists

I’m back, guys and dolls.  Thank you for hanging in there with me.  It has been 4 months (!) since my last entry?!  Wow. Plenty has happened, and I promise I will get to all of it!  I’ll even try to make it funny…

Life continues to flow.  And ebb.  I am still feeling the effects of all the losses from the summer, plus a few more that happened during my hiatus.  I am sure I will share those trials with you at some point.  But I can at least smile now.  And watching my kids put people through their paces is downright hilarious. 

Kids will mess you up.  Don’t believe the hype.  They are “blessings from god” “they are little bundles of joy” “they are precious little …” blah blah bullshit.  You have to be dayum near Jason Bourne to make it out alive. Give no quarter. 

Kids are terrorists.  And I do not negotiate with terrorists.  I need all grand-parents, god-parents, aunts, uncles, and TeeTees to understand that YOU ARE BEING PLAYED! 

The Tiny Monster is the only grandchild of her paternal Grandma. She is the 11th grandchild of her maternal Gammie.  While Gammie is not quite the same disciplinarian she was when raising me, she still takes no crap from people no taller than her kneecaps.  Grandma on the other hand… 

I’ll make the comparison:   

Over the summer, Gammie wanted to have Tiny Monster for a couple of weeks.  Grandma – being a retired airline employee – used her flight benefits to escort the Monster to Gammie.  Grandma tells Gammie “Now if she gets to be too much I’ll come get her.” Which makes me laugh because Gammie has been doing this since my 23 yr old was 23 minutes old.   

One morning Tiny Monster tells Gammie she wants to put on a specific dress.  Gammie says “That’s nice, but you are not putting that on today.”  Tiny Monster constructs a stepping stool out of whatever is around, climbs up to get the dress that is hanging in the closet, and proceeds to put it on.  Gammie sees her with the dress on and tells her “That is NOT what you are wearing today.  Take it off now and put on what I set out for you. And don’t you climb up there again.”  Tiny Monster understands that Gammie is not to be trifled with and does as she is told. 

Now, and I am not making this up, here is how the same scenario played out at GRANDMA’S house: 

Grandma tells Tiny Monster that she is not to put on that dress.  Tiny goes and puts it on anyway.  She comes downstairs to show Grandma that she is a big girl and can put it on.  Grandma giggles at the fact that the dress is on backwards so Tiny Monster could reach the buttons.  Grandma goes upstairs with the Monster to change her clothes, notices that Monster used the rocking chair to climb into the closet, and tells her not to do that again, but nothing about the original act of disobedience.  FAIL!   

 Grandma seems to think that we (the parents) are not bringing her up the way a proper young lady should be.  Every chance she gets, Grandma will ask to keep the Tiny Monster for days on end.  Apparently there can never be enough tea parties.  And Grandma LOVES tea parties.  And inevitably Tiny Monster returns having left destruction and bewilderment in her wake. 

On one such occasion Grandma tells us that she was scolded by the Tiny Monster. “Grandma, you are a bad grandma.  Grandmas are not supposed to yell at their granddaughters.” 

Don’t laugh.  It’s not cute.  It’s manipulation.  She wants Grandma to feel guilty for … being the ADULT.  I don’t know about you, but in my day those sentences would have never made it completely out of my mouth.  My teeth however, would have not only exited my mouth but also would have been ejected with such force that not even the Tooth Fairy would have been able to find them.  But I accept that grandparents are generally at an age where they are focused on passing that final exam and making it through the pearly gates, so they are on that whole “positive re-enforcement” “spanking only breeds violence” level of bull that I WISH was around when I was growing up. 

Side note: Raise your hand if you ever looked at your parents wondering why there wasn’t a “spare the rod” clause when you were growing up. 

So here is mistake number one, she chuckled.  And then Grandma said, “Well you are right, Grandmas shouldn’t yell at their granddaughters.”  Wait, WHAT?!  Never, EVER, agree to their terroristic demands.  You will lose EVERY ARGUMENT THEREAFTER.  All you will ever hear is “But you were wrong that one time, remember? You are probably wrong now.”  And you will not be able to wring their tiny necks, because you ADMITTED it. Mistake number 2. 

Grandma goes on to say, “I’m sorry.”  WHAT IN THE STICKY FINGERED WALL HANDPRINT ENTITLED TROLL NONSENSE IS THIS?!  We don’t admit defeat!!!  You are not only being played, but have now lost all control over the little demon.   

And don’t fall for that “They are little, they don’t know what they are doing.”  They know.  They are having fun playing you. 

On a day when the snow was deep enough for school to be cancelled, and the roads treacherous enough for me to work from home, I had 12 yr old and 3 yr old space invaders.  I looked at these 2 terrorists and told them to not scream in the house.  Knowing that some noise was to be expected, I put on full DJ grade headphones, and set about the tasks that I get paid to complete.  While deep in concentration, I hear yelling.  I took the headphones off, looked at the two of them, and reminded them of the ONLY RULE I GAVE THEM. I then made a show of going to the kitchen and getting THE WOODEN SPOON.  I sat back down with the spoon tucked in to the couch beside me, put my tray table back in my lap, and headphones back on.  Not 10 minutes later I hear a blood curdling scream.  That wooden spoon fairly LEAPT into my hands and I slammed it down on the wooden lap tray.  The 3 yr old – who just seconds ago was screaming her fool head off – suddenly straightens up, put on her best impression of a college sophomore and says “I am sorry, Mother. Sister did something that made me angry. I promise it will not happen again.” Perfect diction.  And in the background, Daddy is cracking up laughing.  Yup, he got played. 

They are terrorists. And they are playing you. 

And maybe you are of a mind that I am being too harsh.  You are entitled to your opinion.  But I can tell you this, my children think twice, even three times before engaging me in the types of games created solely for the purpose of making parents look crazy.