Things I Have Heard So Far Today {and What I’d Really Like to Say in Return}:

“I got a little syrup on my shirt,” Caedmon says as he’s standing on a chair at the kitchen sink, thoroughly soaking his shirt with a rag.

What I’d like to say: Oh. Well, maybe you’d have fewer syrup mishaps if you’d have just a little syrup with your waffle instead of the other way around.

What I said instead: Here, let me help you. You know what? I think you got it already. Good job taking the initiative to clean it up yourself. And no, you may not take your shirt off and leave it on the kitchen counter.

“Mom! Honor stepped on my hair.”

What I’d like to say: Really? Last time I checked, you’re a boy with admittedly kinda shaggy hair at the moment, but still relatively short. You would have to be laying down being still for her to step on your hair. And I kinda doubt that. And, if she in fact, did step on your hair and you are not bald or missing a chunk of hair, you’re fine.

What I said instead: Oh, I’m sorry your hair got stepped on. I’m quite certain you’ll be just fine. Honor, apologize to your brother for stepping on his hair.

“Mom! Honor pinched me just like this.”

What I’d like to say: Oh, she did, huh? Well, if she pinched you just like that, I’m guessing it didn’t really hurt that much since you’re doing it to yourself over and over again as a demonstration. Just a thought. And what did you do to her that she felt the need to pinch you?

What I said instead: Stop pinching yourself. It can’t hurt that badly. Honor, apologize to your brother (I say that a lot) for pinching him. And no more pinching.

“Mom! I nee go potty!”

What I’d like to say: Really, Honor? Because for the two days we tried to potty train this week, you only wanted to sit on the potty if I let you watch videos of your Cousin C and otherwise slime my phone. So now that you’ve been relegated to your room to play with your brother, you suddenly need to go potty every 2 minutes? I don’t think so. But we’ll go anyway. I say I want you to be potty trained, so I suppose that means I have to actually take you to the potty at some point.

What I said instead: Ok Honor, let’s go potty!

“My done on da potty, Mom.”

What I’d like to say: I know. Your cheeks barely touched the seat. Clearly, plenty of time has elapsed for you to do your business. Just an FYI – there is no forthcoming M&M for this lackluster effort. I should get about 17, though, for dropping everything and running up the stairs for this 8 second potty trip.

What I said instead: Good job asking to use the potty. We’ll try again later.

“Mom, I can’t find my baseball shorts.”

What I’d like to say: What do you mean, you can’t find your baseball shorts? I know you wore them home because you didn’t come home naked. I washed them, because I remember thinking they were so big, I could probably wear them. And you put your laundry away. So where are they? They’re in the house somewhere. We have to find them. You’re not playing your game naked tomorrow.

What I said instead: Oh wait…I actually said what I wanted to say on this one. (And we still don’t know where the shorts are.)

This, my friends, (and much more) was all before 10am. So the next time you wonder why a Mom is clinging to her sanity with the tips of her fingernails, this is why. Because this all happens in the midst of feeding kids, cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming, vowing to wear something that day besides yoga pants and a cruddy t-shirt, making sure the dog isn’t digging in the garden, and generally keeping some semblance of order in life. Which doesn’t always happen.

But I love it and wouldn’t have it any other way. I begged God for these children, and am thankful for them each and every day, even when they drive me to the brink of insanity. What fun is sanity, anyway?