I’m amazed sometimes by how what I think is a reward can turn into mass chaos is a matter of minutes. Case in point: Thursday night swimming. I love Thursday simply for the fact that I don’t have to teach and so we have time to actually do things like play!
The Thursday in reference we got home from school, did homework (with a lot of yelling–not me this time–throwing pencils, arguing and talk of calling the police–Sugarplum’s idea). We cleaned up the playroom (with a lot of threats of no dessert for a week–the punishment per our new Dessert reward chart: if you argue about doing your required tasks and you don’t have a dessert to lose, you lose dessert for a week) and the promise of swimming when it was all over (and after nap, of course).
Three kids snug in their beds, some time to work on the blog, catch up on Dance Moms (which somehow stopped being recorded so I got way behind!) and pure bliss. For a while.
Three kids up. First Doodle who plays nicely then loses it and ends up back in bed (he said “ni-ni-ni” and put his hand to his ear, he was asking for it!). Then Sugarplum who, as usual promptly asked for a snack then lost it when I said “let’s wait for Honeybun to get up.” Then Honeybun. A few veggie chips and off to the promised swimming extravaganza.
Sugarplum tries to help Honeybun unzip her dress but couldn’t so I helped. I then took to getting dinner stuff out, leaving the girls to get their swim suits on as they have a hundred times before. And then it happens: the aforementioned chaos.
Honeybun won’t help Sugarplum with her bathing suit top and asks me for help. I respond with “Honeybun, Sugarplum tried to help you with your zipper, it’s only fair you try to help her with her top.” Screaming. Pushing. Hitting. Crying.
“I’m not going to yell at anyone because I’m mad at you both” (I was proud of that one, maybe not the mad part, but definitely the not yelling part!). “I’m not going to.” Honeybun lashes back. “Then you’re not going swimming.” “Yes I am! I’m going to go by myself!” “I doubt it cause you’ll get in big trouble if you do.” “Hmph!” (You know, the usual…)
“Mommy, I want you to hook my top!” Says the butt naked three year old. “Ok, put on your bottoms and then I will come hook your top when I’m done prepping dinner.” “I don’t want bottoms!” “We do not do naked swimming in this house!” (Did I really just say that? And yes, it is an across the board house rule.) More screaming and crying.
Eventually they got it together and played (mostly) nicely until I needed to go in and finish dinner (that is until they were told it was time to get out and Sugarplum was too cold to get dressed so threw herself wining on the floor still wrapped up in her towel..)
