Friday, December 16, 2011

The Morning Battle

"Three, two, one," I stare at him, eyes narrowing.  "This is your last chance."

He spits in my face.

"That's it, I'm getting your father."

"Noooooooooooooooo!" he wails, in the earsplitting tone only small children can muster.

"Then get dressed, right now.  We're going to be late for school."

He crosses his arms and turns away from me.  "I go bye-bye with Gamma."

"You can go out with Grandma after school."

"No school!" He lays on the couch and covers himself with a blanket.  I attempt to put his clothes on,
getting a swift kick to the chest for my efforts.

I hear the thud of footsteps on the stairs and say a silent thank you.  "He won't get dressed again."

"Listen to Mommy!" his dad tells him.

"No thank you." I try to get his pants on again, and again he spits at me.

"I'm done," I say, trying to keep my temper in check as I walk to the kitchen to get his snack ready.

The booming voice of his dad reaches the kitchen.  "Get dressed right now and say sorry to Mommy or you're getting a spanking!"

"No, no, no!" he screams before dissolving into tears.  I know the tears mean he's finally getting dressed.  Another morning battle has just barely been won.

This post was written for this week's red writing hood prompt from Write on Edge.  The prompt was to write a post starting with "Three, two, one" and keep it under 300 words.
Write On Edge: Red-Writing-Hood


  1. Oh GOD. We have such a similar battle sometimes at our house. One thing that has worked for me (and I'm NOT saying it will work for you) is to walk out sooner, without the other parent walking in right away. I did it the first time because I was ready to blow, but when I came back, he had put on his pants for reasons I couldn't fathom. However, I'm as Pavlovian as my kids. It worked once? I'll try it again, and again, and again. It isn't always successful, but more than half the time, I come in to a miracle. The rest? Daddy and I do what you and the daddy at your house do. Switch out playing bad cop and wipe spit off our faces.

  2. It was one, two, three in our house. And my mother's favourite punishment was putting toys in a black bag! :)

  3. Oh dear... sounded like a difficult morning indeed. I'm amazed at your patience and calmness handling such a situation. Great job, Mommy!

  4. Oh my. This blog reminds me why I don't have children.

    But at least the battle was won.

  5. LOL!! Sorry... I shouldn't laugh. It's another day in my life from a different view!

    Oh, the life of a mom.

  6. We have this conversation more and more. I wish it were fiction. I makes me want to stay in my pajamas too!

  7. Hehe...I tell my son that I'm going to call Santa. Whatever works, I say!

    I like how you contrast your discipline style with your husband's.

  8. I admire your patience. It's so easy to yell right back...and I imagine you were sorely tempted.

    Its' so nice to have a partner, a good cop/bad cop dynamic.

    You capture it all with such real detail. I especially like how you capture the diction and cadence of the the boys' speech.

  9. I know this feeling all to well. The barely controlled frustration and just having to throw your hands up sometimes.