Blame It On the Rain
I'm not sure why, but this has been a crazy week for us. And by crazy, I don't mean the fun, zany Barnum & Bailey type crazy. I mean rabid, bipolar dog with PMS whose boyfriend broke up with her on Valentine's Day crazy. Since Monday we have been on a rollercoaster of temper tantrums, crying jags and timeouts that has me really looking forward to the weekend. Even Abby - dear, sweet Abby - has contributed now that she realizes Rice Krispies is not one of the five food groups.
Last night was the apex of the week when Sam was crying because his two front teeth wouldn't let him eat corn on the cob. Jake was crying because well, it's Jake. And Abby was upset about the aforementioned Rice Krispies. We solved Sam's problem by shaving the corn off the cob. We solved Abby's problem by putting her in the tub. (Like a lot of us, many of Abby's ills are cured with a nice soak.) But Jake wasn't having it. From 7-9 we chased, chided, pleaded and disciplined. After a couple of hours, when he finally calmed down, I asked him what had him so upset.
Turns out, it's the tornadoes. Yes, thanks to the Wizard of Oz or Coraline or an emergency drill at school, Jake is worried about the tornadoes. And where we'll go when one comes. And what will happen to Bryon and me. And, thanks to Sam, what will happen to Jake when he gets sucked up into a tornado because that's what happens, you know.
I tried to assure Jake that we would be warned if a tornado was coming and we would make him safe. And that we have an awesome tornado house because of a large closet smack in the middle of the house. We would get the cats and the dog and the family and we would hunker down in that closet until the tornado was gone. And he would be safe.
Now I don't think ultimately it's really the tornadoes. But I do think it's akin to Bryon asking me why I'm so stressed and my response being, "the economy, President Obama, spring break, the dog, our garage, my teeth, my gray hair, health insurance, Haiti."
And ... tornadoes.
Last night was the apex of the week when Sam was crying because his two front teeth wouldn't let him eat corn on the cob. Jake was crying because well, it's Jake. And Abby was upset about the aforementioned Rice Krispies. We solved Sam's problem by shaving the corn off the cob. We solved Abby's problem by putting her in the tub. (Like a lot of us, many of Abby's ills are cured with a nice soak.) But Jake wasn't having it. From 7-9 we chased, chided, pleaded and disciplined. After a couple of hours, when he finally calmed down, I asked him what had him so upset.
Turns out, it's the tornadoes. Yes, thanks to the Wizard of Oz or Coraline or an emergency drill at school, Jake is worried about the tornadoes. And where we'll go when one comes. And what will happen to Bryon and me. And, thanks to Sam, what will happen to Jake when he gets sucked up into a tornado because that's what happens, you know.
I tried to assure Jake that we would be warned if a tornado was coming and we would make him safe. And that we have an awesome tornado house because of a large closet smack in the middle of the house. We would get the cats and the dog and the family and we would hunker down in that closet until the tornado was gone. And he would be safe.
Now I don't think ultimately it's really the tornadoes. But I do think it's akin to Bryon asking me why I'm so stressed and my response being, "the economy, President Obama, spring break, the dog, our garage, my teeth, my gray hair, health insurance, Haiti."
And ... tornadoes.
posted by Romine Family at 12:01 PM
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