A regular Sunday morning …

It has been a very long time since I blogged and I have promised myself I will get back into it.

As I sit in my bedroom, essentially hiding from my 3 kids, yes hiding, I wonder again for why our weekends often turn out so badly and sit here questioning, again for the gazillionth time, my parenting skills.

Our Sunday morning started out well …. we decided we would stay home  … varnish the wooden garden set, tidy up a little corner on the verandah that desperately needs some TLC and paint a little wooden table we put plants on. Things that have been on my to do list for quite a while. We agreed we would go to the golf club so the boys could hit some balls later.

And then it was decided we needed some sandpaper for the little table and maybe we should get some more plants for the puts we had sorted. And this is where it started to go wrong. I have a rule that beds must be made in our house and the boys need to comply before we can leave the house. Now, as a mom, I don’t think this is a big ask, I really don’t and get quite annoyed when 15minutes later I am still waiting for beds to be made so we can go get the plants and sand paper. So I voice my annoyance, and don’t get anywhere. So I get a little more vocal, patience levels on the decline and all that. And then it starts.

Max stomping, Alexander growling, and Oliver quietly saying he made his bed, which he had.  So then Max gets  up to make his bed and moans at Alexander who has not made a move from the lounge floor. Max has lately started becoming quite bossy with his brothers and often plays the parent which goes down like a ton of bricks as one might imagine. So finally Alexander pulls himself from the floor and goes to his room to make his bed. But this is Alexander, and bless him, nothing happens immediately or without a few side track events along the way. Even if the only task is making his bed.

A few minutes later Max enters the twins room and complains to Alexander that his bed isn’t made and promptly lies on it. Thereby ensuring Alexander cant… this escalates tensions and sends me a little more off the edge as it is now 25 minutes since the original request was issued. So tensions fly, boys growl at each other, at me. Max stomps out of the room … I have noticed preteen boys stomp a LOT …. and bumps Oliver on the arm .. his words… which makes Oliver cry and my patience snap.

Harsh words exchanged, ok … I yelled a bit. Max storms out saying things like… “it’s always him who gets the blame”. I take away his laptop and say we won’t be getting the sandpaper or the plants and go hide in my room.

A few minutes later Oliver asks if I want a banana smoothie and the twins come in and complain that Max is baking without asking. Max stomps in (again… stomps!) and says he is making a surprise – is there a problem with that. So I continue hiding in my room as the boys hit the kitchen (which is great – last night they made dinner – Mac & cheese – which was delicious). My belief is what I don’t see I don’t have to worry about! Although I am worried about the state the kitchen will be left in.

I think Max is making cupcakes or muffins … I am sipping on a lovely yoghurt banana smoothie as the 3 of them try really hard to get into my good books so we will go to the golf club.  But I have put a spanner int he works and said he dishwasher needs to be emptied and the kitchen needs to be cleaned. So they are currently fighting about who has don’t what, how much etc …… and I can feel my blood starting to simmer….

Sigh… happy Sunday.

I guess at least my bottom is not stuck to a bicycle saddle for the day which could be worse – well for me it would be at least.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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