Yes, I did just say that to my kids. Is there a problem?

“Screaming is not the answer. Magic 1, 2, 3 really does work.”

Oh, you mean Magic 1, 2, 3, 4…100!!! Sure that works. Kids always listen when their parents say “now honey, I am going to count to three and when I get to three you are going to stop this crazy wild demon temper tantrum that you are throwing and you are going to magically turn into baby Jesus.”

I always read the articles out there about how you are not supposed to scream at your child, or raise your voice. You definitely should not use fowl language because cursing at your kids means they will become a juvenile delinquent. Based on those types of articles my kids are beyond delinquents. They are full blown serial killers.

I wake up most days like everyone else. Thinking that today is a new day. Today, the boys are not going to fight from the time they wake up to the time they go to sleep. Today, my fifteen year old daughter will only tell me I ruined her life once, instead of leading off every statement with “You ruined my life.” Oh today is a new day. It is a good day. And on this new day, I have the patience of a buddha.

Enter reality. Kids screaming, fighting, wrestling. The soft coated wheaten terrier that was supposed to be “fantastic” with kids has stolen the strawberry strudel and no one can agree on what Sharer you tube video should be watched next despite having watched all of them over and over again. Not gonna lie, my favorites are the ones where they drop watermelons and soda bottles from crazy high heights in slow motion. Just sayin. 

“Please just come upstairs and brush your teeth. Your toothbrush is not a sword. Stop hitting your brother. Please mommy just needs to get ready for work. Please don’t wipe your toothpaste face on my dress. If you don’t stop I am going to call daddy. Who cares who puts the toothpaste on their toothbrush faster, just brush your damn teeth. Oh my god, are you really fighting over who can pee first. We have four bathrooms, pick a freaking bathroom. You are not dumb, don’t listen to your brother. Stop calling your brother dumb. Please boys just brush your teeth. It has been 45 minutes and you still have not brushed your teeth.”

The clock ticks by. Leaving for work and school is closer and closer and nothing is done. The only thing to show for the two hours that we have been up is a toothpaste stained dress, pee stains on the floor that I must now clean up, and a crying son who thinks he is dumb because his 16 month older brother said he is.

At this point, I feel defeated. I feel like they are winning. They are beating me. Every morning it is the same thing over and over again. Please someone pass me a shot of straight Jack. Lord, if you are listening, make it stop. Make it stop.

I contemplate all my options in fifteen seconds or less.  I do not have time to sit in the corner and cry about my morning. I do not have time to change strategies and have a conversation with why they need to listen to me the first time. I will be lucky if I can change my stained dress and clean up the pee on the floor and still get out of the house on time to be five minutes late to work. There is no time to rationalize with these kids. They are not even willing to listen.

Then it happens. “IF YOU DON’T GET IN THAT  DAMN BATHROOM AND BRUSH YOUR F$%&^*! TEETH MOMMY IS GOING TO LOSE IT. AND BY LOSE IT, I AM GOING TO THROW AWAY EVERY TOY, EVERY ELECTRONIC, ANYTHING HOLY TO YOU IN THE GARBAGE NEVER TO BE HEARD FROM AGAIN. AND DON’T THINK I WON’T CALL SANTA. I HAVE HIS NUMBER AND I WILL CALL HIM. YOU THINK I AM KIDDING. WHERE THE F&^% IS MY PHONE!”

Silence. Oh the sound of silence. With the silence there is no movement. They stand there and stare at me. They know that I am serious. They know that I will do it. They are now scared. Scared to lose their precious kindles. Deathly afraid that Santa will not bring them presents. I am either the worst mother in the world or a genius. I prefer genius.

They quickly brush their teeth, run to their room, put on their outfits for the day, by themselves, and head back downstairs taking turns on which videos to watch. All this completed in fifteen minutes. Oh, and in between they said how sorry they were for not listening this morning.

Yes, I feel successful and NO, I do not feel bad. I do not drive to work replaying what happened in the morning. I am okay with it. If someone was in my house and witness what happened, they may have a different opinion, and that is okay. It will not change how I handled the situation or choose to handle the situation. Motherhood is about surviving. Yes, I want to survive with elegance, but sometimes, you have to do what you have to do. Sometimes, you have to get dirty. So if I have to yell and scream and threaten to remove all things that are considered holy to a 15, 6 or 5 year old, then that is what I will do. Everyday is a new day with a lot of Groundhog Day moments and I am okay with that. I am a great mom and no article that states “The reason Michael Meyers stalked his sister and killed tons of people in the process was because he was yelled at as a child” will ever change how I handle the situations I am in with my family. If you ask me Michael Meyers was not screamed at enough.

Now if I can just get the fucking dog to stop eating the strudel, the mornings could become amazing!