Before I write anything else look at this -:
First up I have a huge craving for chocolate-covered nuts right now. Now even these milk-chocolate peanuts. No - I want the dark-chocolate hazelnuts I used to stuff into my fat mouth back when I was a civil servant in Bristol. That was when the breakfast of champions (that's me by the way) was a fistful of nuts and a bottle of ginger beer. Secondly I'd much rather that photo show up in tags than the other one on this page.
Anyway let's get on with business. I have had zero success this morning in two areas.
1) My daughter is apoplectic that the heating isn't coming on. She has anxiously asked hte question, "Daddy why isn't the heating coming on?" And then I tell her that means that it's already the temperature she wants it to be. She's already won. Except 20 seconds later she just repeats - with earnest desperation - "Daddy WHY isn't the heating coming on?"
2) My daughter is equally as emotionally certain that getting dressed will not help. Even to the point of making the absurd statement that "clothes make me cold." She said this with all four of her limbs pulled up inside her massive t-shirt. You know - to keep warm.
After a little while she did agree to get dressed. But only on condition that I go get her clothes. This has been her landed-gentry attitude for the last fortnight. And I - like a tit - have gone along with it because it avoided the annoying game she was enjoying of deliberately putting on really poor choices of clothing and then presenting herself to me as a model of silliness. Simply it would be pouring with rain and 45 degrees outside and she'd come down in a pink skirt and a string-back summer dress over it that is so small it's not even long enough to cover the skirt. Just absurd. Which would be fine if we had the time to fart about and she would cooperate afterward. But she stopped doing that and started arguing that the mud-stained light-blue pants that were too short for her a year ago (where she got them from I don't know) are perfectly acceptable for school. So I would get the kid's clothes.
But this morning the kids are being militant little bastards. They're annoyed with everything it seems. My son has been arguing with no-one really that he is going to wear his pajamas today. On top of that he's certain he's wearing the wrong underpants. He picked out the ones he has on. But he went back upstairs and fished out a different pair from the laundry basket. So now he's been wandering about moaning about his underwear and pajamas. He isn't saying it to me - just sort of stumbling around like an inebriated tramp clutching underpants and grunting. It's like being back in South Wales again. Of course when he needed to go to the bathroom I tried to put his old underwear on (he'd dropped his glorious better ones in the livingroom) and he got savagely annoyed at me. To be a twat I started getting him dressed. I got his socks and a t-shirt on before he chucked his trousers across the room and lay down to protest like a pantless-hippy protesting the expansion of a motorway. Obviously I took a photo. Firstly because I knew that would annoy him and secondly because I predicted yesterday that I'd do something stupid like that.
His sister is also arguing against time itself. She knows what day it is. And - just like every Saturday - she is demanding that she be allowed to watch a TV show that she sometimes watched on a weekday. The basic problems with that are that she did indeed sometime watch that show. But that was over a year ago and at 11am. Considering she generally moans about that before 7am on a Saturday that's a pretty stupid thing to get annoyed about when I explain - again - that it isn't on. Every bloody Saturday she moans about it not being the same as a weekday - but with the added weirdness of being irritated that it isn't a completely different time of day.
I also have an arbitrary rule in this house. If you want to do something so badly that not doing it makes you cry or have a tantrum then you aren't allowed to do it ever. In a reverse order of explanation - if my kids are doing something and an hour later I ask them to stop and they have a fit then that particular activity is OUTLAWED. I actually was saying it like that too in a feeble attempt to feel like a Wild West sheriff. That was until one day we were outside and I OUTLAWED something and then noticed a woman from down the street walking past with her dog smirking (it was a real "What. A. Twat.." smirk as well) at my King and I stance as I bellowed that at the kids.
Anyhoo - my son is under three so he gets like that a lot. But my daughter rarely does. But two-to-three months ago she had a fit about not being allowed to play on my laptop for longer. It was a real teeth-grinding raging fit as well. As it also involved Angry Birds I decided then and there to kill that off. That insipid little game hasn't had a peek into this house since. I also instituted a Game Time. Between 4 and 5pm she is allowed on my computer. She doesn't have to - but that's her window of opportunity. She tends to use it but has skipped out early or not jumped on as well. It's worked really well. Except this morning she has been asking if it's 4pm yet. No - it's 6.38am. No - it's now 6.41am. So already today I've had to warn her that if she asks me again when it's clearly fucking obvious that it's nowhere near the time she usually gets out of school that today's Game Time won't even happen.
I can't endure a day of nagging like that. I sort-of noticed it creeping in last night when my kids really epitomized the definition of sibling rivalry. That being that one child was getting genuinely jealous of the other one because they weren't getting their toenails cut. That's just odd. REally though they are annoyed at the home situation. Their mother has been at work since 5am this morning. Actually that's a lie - their mother has been at work since the last week of August. She leaves before they get up and arrives home either at or just-before bedtime. Seven days a week bar Tuesday's when their mother gets out early to take our daughter to a dance class. Which pretty much involves picking them up from the house - going to a class - then driving them home to bed. It's not been fun for anyone. And now my daughter is convinced that her mother isn't going to make it home for a Halloween party tonight. It's at 7pm. I've told her not to worry about it. It certainly explains why she's worried about time today though. Mind you it's only 7.25am right now.
It's going to be a bloody long day.