One Year and Two UFC Fighters

Hi, friends. We last chatted January 25th of last year. That's a long time. Like almost forever. And a lot happened in that almost year. I know you want to to know what happened...so here is the abridged version:

I worked for a bit. That was ok...not great. Only ok. We got a new mini van and named her Princess Di because she is regal. And quite a looker. She even has a crown. Not that it isn't a blow to manly-ness to drive a mini-van, but we go and put a princess crown on the rear view mirror. I bet that makes Eric feel REAL manly.

Hmmm...what else happened? Oh, I went to Florida for an epic weekend. I saw the ocean for the first time and didn't get stung by a jelly fish. WHEW! Summer was summer...it was hot. HAWT actually. We spent an amazing week up at the cabin up north. We swam, boated, fished, played, relaxed, and got bit by ants. Avery lost her first tooth...and swallowed it. Oops!

We drove to North Carolina for a long weekend with our friends. Then Christmas came and went. And here we are, smack dab into 2013 and I have the itch, desire, and urge to blog again.

 Alright. So let's cut to the chase. For the most part, I have been home with my girls for over three years. That's a lot of years. In the beginning, I was full of gusto. We crafted and arted, cooked and baked, and adventured a lot. But then as time started passing by, that started to peter out. My expectations were greater than what reality could support. Avery started to get more homework. Creativity started to dwindle. Funds ran low. Exhaustion set it. So, we started to stop doing a lot of those things. We fell into a rut. A boring, colorless, lame rut.

That is when my kids turned into UFC fighters in training.

True story. Wanna hear the tale? Well, here it goes.

For so long, they were entertained by me. I guided them in their play and I played right along side of them. But when Kendall got to be old enough, it was like, "Go play with each other. You live with a friend. Run along. Do stuff." And they did. And this is what I envisioned was going on:

I pictured laughing, giggling, whispering, and all around cuteness when they were left to their own devices.

But a whopping minute into my new-found silence bliss, someone would start to cry. Or yell. Or whine.

And this is what I would actually find was going on:

Full on fist-a-cuffs. Right hooks. Full nelsons.

It is totes ridic. I mean, a chick has got to pee or switch laundry and I can't walk out of the room without tears thirty seconds later. It's neat.

In hopes to combat this combat, I have tried a few things. One was to lecture. "When I was your age, I played Barbies. ALL DAY. BY MYSELF. My parents didn't entertain me all day. YOU LIVE WITH  A FRIEND. PLAY WITH EACH OTHER NICELY." They didn't care. Not at all.

So, I took away TV. We all know how long that lasts. I mean, it is a free babysitter. And sometimes necessary for life to happen.  But again, I had to let my voice be heard, "When I was your age, I never got to watch TV. EVER!" (lies. all lies. but hey, work with me here.)

I tried reasoning. Worked with the older one, not the younger one. "You know, sometimes I have to walk away from you two. It is not my job to entertain you. It is my job to feed you, keep you safe, help you learn, and love you. So, you might actually have to play with the toys that fill this house without me." (I should win an Oscar for that performance. I might have pretended to be really hurt by their behavior. Kudos to me.) But it didn't last.

In a last ditch resort, I tried something that worked like a charm. It is not a new tactic, just not one I had used before. I mean, I have taken toys away, banned them from things, redirected, hugged, and once, just laughed and threw my hands up. But nothing has quite worked as well as whispering.

Let me set the stage. We are all in the living room after school, just hanging out eating a snack. I have to go in the basement to switch laundry. I ask them to get along and be nice for this five minute span. They nod in agreement. I walk downstairs where I can still hear everything that is happening upstairs.

One minute later, there are tears and a Kendall standing at the top of the steps whining about this or that. I just keep on keepin' on with my task. Now, when I am done, I walk up to find both of them standing there bickering about who did what, where it happened, and why. But I don't say anything. I just guide them by their shoulders to the living room. I silently pick Kendall up and set her on a couch. I silently steer Avery to the other. I turned around, clicked off the TV, and whispered, "No one move or make a sound. I am going to go start dinner." And I walked in the kitchen. They just sat there, stunned. Like, "WTF is this woman doing? No lecture? No anger? No reaction at all?"

Twenty minutes they sat there, stone cold silent. Worked. Like. A. Charm. MUAH HA HA!

Low and behold, this fighting still happens. Daily. Unless we have company. Then they are angelic.

But we are getting there. With a little tough love and constant reminders, the fighting is starting to become less frequent. We are starting to glimpses of them doing those cute things like tickle fights and holding hands. Hopefully someday I will actually have the vision of sweetness between two sisters that I dreamed of. Until then, I will just keep freaking them out by whispering at them. (BTW, I was mentally high-fiving myself for that entire twenty minutes).

Now that I am back in full force, I will start sharing some of the awesomeness that we are doing around here. We are gearing up for Valentine's Day up in here and have a lot on the agenda. Thanks for giving me yet another chance. Check back soon!