Where the Wild Things Are

I don't know if it's monsters or spooks. But this Halloween has found us surrounded by some scary behavior.

I was in a show once where the director gave us this direction, "I want you to look scared like 'I just peed a little' scared."

For some reason or another, my whole household has been scared like that. Perhaps it was the mistake of seeing if the twins would like the movie The Witches-- one of them ran out of the room crying.

Seriously though, the baby peed through his diaper during his morning nap. I had to throw his bedsheets in the washer. But first I had to remove the clothes that cat mistook for her litter box.

One of the twins peed through his clothes on a way home from an outing. Then I got out of the shower to find that the cat had peed in my bra. I held it together up until then, but at that point I wanted to cry.

The whole family had the pee scared out of them, but their doings have been far more scarier for me.

Meet my three little monsters.



At least that's what they have been as of late. Not just to me, but to each other. The twins have learned to get along really well, but they have been fighting more. And their little brother just doesn't stand a chance. He's gotten beaten with a wooden spoon, and had his head pushed repeatedly into a door, by his brothers. I discipline where I can, and cross my finger in hopes it will get better as they get older.

My first little monster is the youngest. He gets his heart broken every time he crashes. Sometimes I can't blame him because he has tripped and fallen into something, and he usually hits his head. But the poor kid is still learning the in's and out's of walking, and to have him break down, and cry, every time he crashes and burns just really eats at the nerves.



The twins have been Hell in a Hand basket-- pardon the expression. Our last two outings have led to me grabbing them and threatening to leave. I stop, tell them they need to behave or else we will go home-- in a very aggravated, slightly loud and very stern tone-- and then I stand up and look around, wondering what people must think of me. I mostly wonder because I could feel I was on the edge of acting reasonably. I probably should have tried a little bit harder to keep it under control.

Our first adventure began at Del Taco. I took the kids, by myself, after a family outing. My husband had to go to work. The twins were screaming, running, jumping, hanging on the ropes meant to keep the line, to order, in check. I tell them over and over to stop, but they don't listen. This is what leads to me just throwing up my arms and saying, "We're done! Lets just go home!"

A nice lady, in line, picked up my crying baby for me-- he had taken another spill while walking around. She said, "I have 5 kids, so I understand."



This encounter was encouraging, but I got slightly discouraged when the Del Taco employee gave me weird looks for paying, for our churros, with pocket change. I just couldn't bear the ride home without them.

We came home, and one of the twins kept yelling something at me.

"Would you stop please! I am so tired of you yelling at me!"

Did I really just say that? I couldn't believe I felt that way. A two year old yelling at me? Doesn't that just sound strange? But it was true. He had been yelling at me all day long, and boy was I tired of it.

Of course, he's a tender heart and he immediately broke down and started to cry. This one, in particular, has been a challenge for me. He gets offended at any little hint of "No" or "Lets not do that". The minute those words, or tones, escape your mouth he breaks down and cries. There's no talking to him either. I just send him to another room, or I go somewhere else while he cools down. He always just reacts. Even when you're trying to help him, but you just don't understand, he gets upset because he thinks you aren't letting him have what he wants.

Today was another venture. We went to a local pumpkin walk, and the kids just got out of control. Whining and crying, complaining and sighing, they sent me over the edge. I grabbed one of them and threatened to just go home.



What's funny is the one that is so good at home-- cleans, listens and helps-- is always the one I'm grabbing and threatening. When we go out he just ignores me and does what he pleases.

One of our kids even wondered off. We had no idea. I heard the employees talking about a lost little boy, and I thought "Oh how sad, I hope they find his parents."

Then they mentioned he was dressed as Superman and my husband turns to me and says, "One of the twins has wondered off." And he went to find him.

How did he get lost? We were right there, watching him play.

My husband said, "I think he was looking for us at least."

I can just picture him running around the gardens yelling, "Mom! Mom!"

Crying his heart out. Just like when he got lost in that maze last weekend. That was another outing. I don't know why I thought he would just stick with his older cousins. It broke my heart.

It's been so discouraging. I almost don't want to take them out, but I know that's how they learn. I just wonder if it's a lack of parenting or if it's just the age and circumstance.

I guess we both need practice. If things don't get better maybe I'll send them to live with monsters on some far away island. Or, perhaps, I'll just got to a far away island.