Here's a Riddle For You

What's worse than having a grumpy, constantly whining child?

A grumpy, constantly whining child AND a sick, constantly whining husband.

Before I complain too much, I will say that Tate was actually quite sick. He sounded like there was an elephant sitting on his chest. And the things he coughed up. Oh. My. Gawd. Not that I saw it, but, dude, I heard it.

And Peanut? I don't know what was up his ass, but damn, did he ever whine. In actuality, it probably wasn't something up his ass, but something in his mouth. Like teeth. That's just a guess.

First there were the temper tantrums (from both of my darling "children").

"I'm going to take more medicine, two Tylenol Cold & Sinus isn't enough", says Tate.
"No, that's a bad idea. You don't f*ck with Acetaminophen. Seriously, it could make you very sick", says the voice of reason (yes, me).

A Tate tirade followed. Something about me not knowing what I'm talking about. (Right.)

"Peanut it is time to go inside. It's hot and Mommy's tired."

A Peanut tirade followed. Something about "aaah, dada, bada mama, no, aaaaah."

Then there were the unreasonable responses to simple questions.

"Can we NOT order onions on the pizza next time?", I ask.

Tate, flipping out, says "YOU CAN ORDER WHATEVER YOU WANT, I ASKED YOU WHAT YOU WANTED AND....". I'll stop there. I don't need to relive it.

"Peanut, do you want some milk?", I ask.

Peanut, flipping out, screams.

Luckily redirection worked when times got tough.

"Look Tate, it's Modern Marvels! It's about airplanes, ooh, you like airplanes", I suggest during a whining about who-knows-what session.

He becomes quiet and settles in watching his favorite show.

"Look Peanut, it's Blues Clues! Can you help Steve find the clues? Ooh, I bet you can!", I suggest during a whining about who-knows-what session.

He becomes quiet and settles in watching his favorite show.

I've never been so relieved that it's Monday morning. At least I'll have only one whiner to deal with today. And I can always put him in his room.

Warning!!! A much needed tirade/tantrum of my own is coming after a weekend like this one. WARNING!!!!

I HATE onions on pizza and I'm NEVER eating anymore damn pizza with onions on it. If you want onions, order them on the side and put them ON the pizza so I can quit picking them OFF the pizza. And, Kia, cashier at Walmart, when someone says hello, you say hello back. Jerk. Have I mentioned before that I'm pregnant. Well I am. And uncomfortable and leaking at the boobs and swelling at the feet and kicked in the ribs and tired and weepy. If the bathrooms are too dirty for you, then clean them yourself. Same goes for the coffee table and the kitchen floor and the laundry room and the office. If I have to watch one more stinkin' minute of the History Channel...well, lets just say it won't be pretty. And stop rolling your toybox out of your playroom or I'm going to smash the wheels on it. I DON'T CARE if you eat it or not! It's not poison, it's ham. HAM! And just what the hell are my neighbors doing on such a beautiful day in the afternoon. Get your asses outside and enjoy the weather. Chat with your neighbors.

Uh, sorry. I needed to get that off my chest. I forgot that you were here.

Carry on. Don't mind me.