Chickens?
I often tell my closest friends this:
When my children are talking at me simultaneously with rising volume and speed accompanied by pokes, pulls and punches, I called this daily ritual:
being pecked to death by chickens.
I find it a perfect analogy for this behavior. Now when my children begin pecking me to death I simple start making chicken noises for their amusement and to distract them ("distract" in mommy language means shut them the hell up). Not sure if they think the chicken noise is funny or if they are laughing at some crazed look on my face which was most likely their initial goal.All moms have experienced this at one time or another and probably have their own special name for it; some repeatable, some not so much. I do not dispense advice or claim to know anything about children. Frankly, every day I find myself wondering if I will ever learn that these punks, I mean dear sweet loves of my life, are always calculating their next move and lie in wait for the moment that I am most exhausted, say noon, and then pounce, "Mom can I set the shed on fire now?" "Sure Sweetie, just make sure you're wearing sunscreen".
I do know that these things are true of my children and am thrilled to discover that other moms have the same issues. This is one of the reasons I like to go to Jane's, grab a coffee, and laugh with the other people who are dealing with the same farm animals in their own homes.
Eggs Anyone?
