When I was a kid, a friend’s nanny threatened to drop my friend and me on the side of the road if we didn’t stop acting up in the back seat. We didn’t stop acting up. She then left us on the side of the road and drove off.
I worship her. If I knew where that nanny was now I’d probably send her flowers or a fruit basket. I’m not worthy.
Still, I try.
I live in a house full of people who don’t listen to me.
Either it’s the noise level (think four kids, high ceilings, no carpets or drapes, plus a husband who has to constantly take calls on speaker + run CNN at top volume + blast our system + turn up whatever loud loud loud video he is playing on his Mac to top volume, simultaneously) …
… or it’s the fact that two of the four kids are too young to understand much beyond “do you want Cheerios?”
… or it’s the fact that the OTHER two kids just … don’t … care.
Recently, I decided I’d had enough of this. I am tired of yelling incessantly up or down the stairs trying to get the kids to answer me. I am tired of running around asking “Did you hear me? Did you hear me? Did you HEAR ME ?!?” like some stressed out, way older, transgendered version of the Verizon guy. (And yes, I realize we wear similar glasses, he and I.) Continue reading “Yes, Mom! (Or: How I Talk So My Kids Listen*)” »