Despite a constant background noise of children in various stages of playing or fighting, our home is a relatively happy one. However, I have been known to raise my voice on occasion, and yes, sometimes I need to bring it to a level that says I mean business. Once in a while, I have to demonstrate the business.
The other night, the fighting was unrelenting, despite my multiple warnings of the dire consequences. When the fighting didn't stop, the kids witnessed their angry, frustrated mother carry out the punishment they were generously forewarned of.
I put all the toys from the first floor of the house in the garage. I'm ashamed of how many toys that turned out to be because now our first floor is quite bare. (though I really like it) This was two days ago and I have happily kept them in the garage except for a few small things. They were supposed to earn them back but they didn't ask, so I didn't say. Thus, the confiscated loot remains in the slammer.

Today my little gremlins showed me just how creative they can be. Daniel made a school bus out of the couch and a rubbermaid attachment that came from the kitchen somewhere. I think the weights are the headlights. All night he kept insisting that everyone needs to get on his bus. Angrily. I think he might have some road rage issues.

Katie and Shannon filled up the rest of the living room with these pop-up tents that I neglected to put in the garage while on my "mean mommy" tirade. The entire living room was filled with stuff and I thought it was all in the garage. Where did it all come from?

This proves to me to never underestimate the destructive (or creative in this case) power of children. It is a force to be respected like mother nature. (The destructive side is another several stories)

And this poor little guy. Well, the only reason why there is even a picture of him is because Katie made me take one. She was fascinated. We spent at least twenty minutes discussing this thing in our basement.

Mom! Cwi-et!

Yes, that's a cricket. But I think he's dead honey. He hasn't moved all day. (I'm not disposing of it-Tim can do that)

Mom! What they eat?

I don't know. Grass I guess. Maybe small bugs.
Mom! Wha dinos eat?

Dinosaurs? Some eat plants and some eat other dinosaurs.

Mom! I don' eat cwi-ets!
No, we don't eat crickets.

Mom! He not dead. He sweepin!

(Now I'm scared she might start crying if I force the issue and she realizes he's really dead, but I can't leave it alone. I have to be right.)

No honey, he's pretty dead. (I'm expecting some reaction-anything)

Mom! Don' let Maggie (the cat) eat him!
Okay hon, I won't.

You get the gist. She wouldn't let me not look at that stupid bug. It's all she wanted to talk about for twenty minutes.

Very amusing.

Also, off the subject but I want to put it out there. I saw on the news tonight that through the partnership of a private donor and the school, RIT will be offering full scholarships to those who qualify. To qualify, you must have excellent grades. (good-very fair) Your family must be below the income level set. (ok, still with it) And you must live in the city. That is where I have a problem. So if my kid is a grade A student, and we're poor, (we do fall below the income level set ) we may not qualify because we choose not to live in the drug-infested, violent, crime ridden city? Is this discrimination? Maybe I don't know the whole story. Quite likely. If that's the case, I'm sorry and I'm wrong. But I am feeling increasingly jaded towards attempts to fix poverty through handouts. At least this program would get kids to strive to be better students and earn a reward. I totally support that idea. I should be happy for those benefiting who really need it. But we need it too and I'm angry we wouldn't qualify simply because of where we live. Again, I may not know the whole story yet so I'll shut up now.