Status: Ornery. Did I spell that right? Who cares. Well, *I* care, being a writer, but I'm too tired to check it.
I'm struggling with the four-kids-getting-ready-in-the-morning thing. I have a tendency to yell up the stairs, and I yell pretty loud.
I come from a yeller family. We yell, because if we didn't, we'd blow up. Hubby comes from the "keep-it-inside-all-pent-up-until-you-shut-down" family. Yeah, and they're all going to be dead from brain embolisms by the age of 40...
So, I don't really like being a "yeller." I have started counting to ten. Sometimes I have to count to twenty. Sometimes more. But I am doing it.
"Mom! Thing One is laughing at me!"
One, two, three, four...
"MOM! Thing three stole my super rare Pokemon ultra level X card and he hid it and he's not telling me where it is!"
One, two, three...
"MOM! Thing Two just spilled his chocolate milk all over the carpet!"
AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
I am trying, really I am. Because the baby gets scared when I yell, and he looks at me like I've grown horns. I probably have. So I need to find a different tack, or ship my kids off to Siberia.
Hmmm, which one do I choose??? ;-)
Got the standard impersonal "not for us" rejection. I'm not sad about it, because she was the first one I tried. There will be more, I'm sure. It always hurts when they LIKE the idea, ask for a partial, and THEN reject you. Those are the ones that smart a bit.
Well, it's Monday, so I'm off and running! At least I don't have to count to ten with the baby. He's a sweetheart. Wait until he's five...heh heh heh. Off to Siberia he will go!!!
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1 comment:
LOL Don't feel bad - I'm a yeller, too. My dad was. We ran and hid when he yelled. Of course, he mellowed out when he got older. :)
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