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Never thought I’d say this. Again.

6 March 2011

Peanut, please stop standing on the toys.

Feet aren’t something to put in people’s faces.

Stop playing with your food.

Baby, no teeth on mama. Teeth hurt. That’s biting. Mama doesn’t like biting.

Peanut, we don’t stand on toys.

Please stop playing with your food.

Stop pretend shooting at me.

If you can’t listen to me, I’ll take that away.

Toys are not for standing on.

Butterbug, You’re frustrated. I know, but biting is not okay. Ow. Biting hurts.

Please eat your food. Don’t play with it.

Stop pretend shooting at me. Pretend shoot at something else.

Please get your feet out of his face.

Get off the toy. Toys break if you stand on them.

Stop playing with your food.

Eat your food.

Food is not for playing. It’s for eating.
Eat your food.
Stop playing with your food.

YOU: stop biting me! And YOU: stop playing with your food. Stop pretend shooting at me or I’ll rip that paper towel tube out of your grubby paws. And stop standing on the motherfucking toys!

I’m starting to feel like her:

13 Comments leave one →
  1. 6 March 2011 9:55 pm

    I am sure I will be jinxed immediately for this but mine hasn’t bitten me in a while…now we’re working on not pinching…come to think of it it’s like she’s subbed pinching for biting….woe is us (you and me)

  2. 6 March 2011 10:12 pm

    Will it help or make it worse to tell you that repetition or the need to repeat ourselves does not seem to get better as they get older? BUT when they are old enough, you do have more arsenals for punishment in your pocket… No computer time seems to be the most effective so far.

  3. 6 March 2011 10:19 pm

    That song is heelarious.

    OK, so when the kid starts biting, shove some food in the piehole. That solves the ‘playing with the food’ problem of leftover uneaten food. I got nothin for the other crazies. RUN. ABANDON SHIP.

  4. 6 March 2011 10:29 pm

    jc, you make me laugh so hard. The biter and the non-eater are different kids, though. The biter always has something in his piehole. The toy stander rarely eats. I like the abandon ship suggestion, though.

    subWOW, I figured it didn’t get better, but I’m sure my willingness to yell the second or third time will increase. Now I’m trying to be patient and such restraint seems pointless.

    Yuliya, pinching sucks. Biting sucks. Hitting sucks. And throwing the head backwards to intentionally hit mom in the face (that’s my toddler) makes me want to send him to jc’s boss via interoffice mail.

  5. 6 March 2011 11:03 pm

    “send him to jc’s boss via interoffice mail”

    YES!!!!!!! I’m sure Butter could knock some sense into him! He has the emotional maturity of a 5 year old, so my hopes aren’t that high. The nuts and bolts were never there, so it’s really a battle against a brain full of empty space. I’ll provide a helmet. Sharpen his teeth before you pop him in the mail. I love the smell of blood in the water.

  6. 7 March 2011 1:09 am

    LOL That all sounds very familiar.
    And then when they’re older…don’t pee in the water-pistol, don’t pee in the drink-bottle, don’t pee on your shoes, don’t wave your willy at the baby, don’t wave your willy out the window, don’t wave your willy at me…

  7. 7 March 2011 6:12 am

    God, I need more Nap/jc banter in my world. Y’all rock this planet!

    ps: was Pea pretend shooting with a plastic fork again?

  8. 7 March 2011 6:36 pm

    Right there with ya my dear…..and I can’t really say that I want to be.

  9. 7 March 2011 7:39 pm

    Misery loves company…Pull up a chair girls. My repertoire includes: Brush your teeth. Put on deodorant . Did you put on deodorant? Wash your hands. Is your home work done? How much home work do you have? I thought you said you were done? Is the back room picked up? Why are there books everywhere? Don’t touch one another!

    For the record, I don’t even care if they don’t eat anymore…Maybe they will lose some steam and I won’t have to continue to repeat myself a gazillion times a day.

    And yes, it is a gazillion. Remember I get paid to repeat myself at school and before too long, I will do it without a pension :(

  10. 8 March 2011 4:30 am

    …those motherfucking toys.

    (And when did Butter become a toddler? )

  11. 8 March 2011 12:50 pm

    Kloppenmum, I spit out my water at that one. I’ve already had to say “don’t pretend shoot your brother with your penis.” While he was asking why the baby grabbed and pulled. “That’s why.”

    TKW, this week it’s been popsicle sticks taped together and toilet paper tubes taped together and plastic helicopter blades taped to pens. “Don’t pretend shoot at me with that stuff you’ve taped together” would cover it.

    Jen, you said a mouthful there, my friend.

    Maria, Ugh. The tidying, the homework, and the personal hygeine will haunt us forever, won’t they? No wonder some moms do it for their kids. Pain in the ass to hound them about becoming responsible adults who use tissues, wash hands, and refrain from shooting at people. ;-)

    ck seriously with those motherfucking toys. I want to make them live in an empty house with nothing entertaining. Butter just wanders around, collecting forbidden items and running off before anyone notices. And then clings to them and screams if we try to take them away. “You weren’t looking so you can’t care that much and this is *my* Sharpie!”

  12. 9 March 2011 8:02 pm

    I lost my shit last 2 weeks ago because my son – the SENSIBLE one – put his mouth on my bare foot yet again. I cannot recall how many times I’ve asked/told/insisted/threatened he not put his mucous membranes on anything as filthy as a foot. Or shoe.
    I made him listen to me tell him 10x in a row different versions of “Please don’t put your mouth on my foot”. When I finished I asked him if he understood why I got mad at him for doing it after I filled so much of the last few days with these words. He sagely nodded.
    Today he kissed my foot.

  13. 9 March 2011 11:54 pm

    Sometimes I want to just record the stuff I say the most so I can play it back when I need to and save myself the time and effort of saying it over and over and over and over again.

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