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A Monster is Ruling My life

The parent child relationship is a dance of power dynamics. Of course as the grown up, you are in control – but there are moments when the ferocious emotional reaction of your child will make you bow to their supremacy over you. Sometimes I hold my ground against The Munch being an unreasonable twatt, but there are also instances where I will bend over upside-down and twisted to avoid her wrath.

This is a story that tells the tale of the true craziness of my life.

It all started with getting Munch’s new bedframe delivered.

I was with my friend Grace, and suddenly realized that in order for Munch’s new bed to be set up by the delivery men, I would have to unmake her current bed and move the mattress. This may not seem like a big deal, but in my world, it was huge.

The Munch has a thing about her bed, and the set up of her stuffed animals. It’s a very elaborate installation art piece that I am NOT allowed to touch. I haven’t even washed her sheets for 9 months. There are bloodstains from a bloody lip, an unidentifiable green blemish, and I am sure variety of forms of E. Coli.

Toni: Fuck. If I move her mattress, Munch is going to know I moved her stuffed animals?
Grace: And?
Toni: She is going to get really mad.
Grace: And?
Toni: You don’t get it.

Grace and I moved Munch’s mattress, and I washed her sheets since I had the chance. The bedframe was constructed, and I did everything in my power to make the bed exactly as I had found it. Although I did fail to use the 5 blankets she had been using to avoid the crumbs from eating cookies in her bed a few months ago.

I went to pick Munch up from her friend’s house, and since it was a beautiful day, suggested we go to the playground before going home.
Munch: Can we stop by the house so you can get my Frozen shoes and my Elsa flip-flops?
Toni: Sure.

We stopped by the house and I found her Frozen sandals, but not the stupid flip-flops. I had forgotten to mention this however, because while I was in the house, I was so fixated on her bed being absolutely perfect for her to see.

We headed to the park, but first stopped at the Organic Store for some $38 sandwiches.

Toni: Come on Munch. Let’s go in the store and get the sammiches.
Munch: Can I get a treat?
Toni: Sure. Just put your shoes on.
Munch: Did you bring my flip-flops?
Toni: I couldn’t find them. But I brought the Frozen sandals, so just wear those.
Munch: BUT I WANTED TO WEAR MY FLIP-FLOPS!!!!

Now keep in mind we were in the parking lot of a judgmental hippy store, and now my kid was freaking the fuck out over Frozen flip-flops. I was trying to be patient, but I was also debating shoving my head in a juicer. I tried to reason with Munch that she has 2 other shoe options to choose from, but she was having none of it. She was in rare form. I finally got out of the car and said when she was ready to calm down we could go in.

I wanted to just turn around and go home to avoid this whole scene – but the problem was that I had already ordered the sammiches over the phone. I HAD to go in and pick them up. I couldn’t bring my crying crappy child with me because that was too embarrassing. So I waited. And I waited. And waited some more while Munch continued her total break down in the car.

Eventually my neighbor pulled into the parking lot to do his grocery shopping.

Toni: Hey. Can you watch my car for a minute while my kid has a tantrum? I have to go in the store and pick up the sandwiches I pre-ordered.
My Neighbor: Uhhh okay?

When I came back out, The Munch had stopped crying and was talking to my neighbor. I thanked him, and got in the car.

Munch: Can I still get a treat?
Toni: You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Munch: But you promised.
Toni: Dude… do you seriously think I am going to get you a treat after that?
Munch: But you promised!!!!

At this point I was weak. I was broken. Munch put on her god forsaken Frozen sandals, and we went inside so she could get a treat. I don’t know why. I was just trying to have a nice day I guess. But once in the store, I guess Munch hadn’t really gotten over her mood, so she couldn’t figure out what treat she wanted. She then started stomping her feet in frustration.

Now my kid can be an asshole. But this was some next level shit. I had never witnessed this level of cuntyness.

We left the store and I was livid.

Munch: Can I have my chocolate now?
Toni: No way. And we are not going to the park either. You were so rude in there, and it was embarrassing. I got you a treat because I said I would, but that doesn’t mean you can have it after you acted in such a disrespectful manner.
Munch: YOU ARE BEING DISRESPECTFUL!
Toni: Am I? Do you think I like going to the playground?
Munch: No.
Toni: Was I taking you to the playground for my health? Or because you like it?
Munch: Because I like it.
Toni: Have you been kind to me? Or appreciative at all of my efforts to do things for you today?
Munch: No.
Toni: Would you give you a treat if you were me?
Munch: No.
Toni: Okay. So no treat, and we are going home.
Munch: BUT I WANT MY CHOCOLATE!! WAHHHAHHHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA.
Toni: You are acting like a baby.

The Munch cried the whole way home as I fantasized about driving into on coming traffic. At this point we were both starving because neither of us had eaten lunch. I got to my house, threw her the sammich, and went to the yard to eat alone.

We kept our distance for a few minutes, and then The Munch came over to me with flowers she had picked. She then handed them to me.

Munch: I’m sorry.

Oh she’s good. She is soooooo good.

We made up, ate together, and everything seemed fine.

Toni: This is the plan. We are going to Sally’s for dinner, and you have to take a bath before then because it’s been a few days. So lets go do that, and then get ready.
Munch: Okay.
Toni: Oh. I almost forgot. Your new bed came. Do you want to see it?
Munch: YAYYYYY!

We ran upstairs. Munch was ahead of me. She entered her room, and my heart tightened.

Munch: YOU MOVED MY STUFFED ANIMALS!! I WORKED SO HARD ON MY SET UP!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!??
Toni: I had to in order for your bed to be delivered. But I put everything back.
Munch: YOU DID IT WRONG! MY SEAL DOESN’T GO HERE. IT GOES THERE! AND MY DOLLY GOES HERE!
Toni: Okay. I don’t want to fight about this. Lets fix them together.
Munch: DID YOU MOVE MY COZY BLANKETS??!!
Toni: Yes, but I washed everything and put them safely in the closet.
Munch: I NEED MY COZY BLANKETS BACK!
Toni: Dude… we got this. I will take everything down, and we can do it together okay?
Munch: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS WITH OUT ME!?
Toni: You weren’t here. Let’s not have a tantrum, or act like a baby. We can talk about things and figure out solutions with our words and actions. So explain to me how you like it, and we can do this together.
Munch: Okay. First we have to talk off all the stuffed animals and the blanket so we can put the cozy blankets down first on the bottom.

I started taking her stuffed animals of the bed so we could remake it the way she liked. I moved the tiny bunny, the little bear, the giraffe, and then I put my hand on A FUCKING LIVE MOUSE!!

A mouse had been cuddling with her stuffed animals, just chilling next to the tiny badger, and I almost picked it up with my BARE FUCKING HANDS!

Toni: AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I pulled Munch off the bed. The mouse was now buried under the other stuffed animals on the floor.

Munch: What? WHAT IS IT?
Toni: IT’S A MOUSE!
Munch: Where?
Toni: THERE! Under your animals!!
Munch: Well get it and bring it outside.
Toni: I’M SCARED.
Munch: Come on Mom, you can do it. Don’t be such a baby.

bed-fight-blog2

4 Responses to A Monster is Ruling My life

  1. Teneisha says:

    This is true life. I live this too.

  2. Laszlo Nagy says:

    I think the Socratic approach is still working. You could write a book on it. As you know, I admire her elan. But it is important that you keep the records that you do. In the end, appreciation is everything. So too is a sense of humor. I love this.

  3. kiesha jean says:

    Thank you for sharing that. It made me laugh and not feel like such a shit mother. I’m online to decompress after a terrible 2 hour fighting bedtime. My wonderfully intense 2.5yr old boy REALLY likes to hiT AND KICK me right now and it fucking blows. I can say no, stop, give time outs up the wazoo all fucking day. Eventually I am broken though and I will do just about anything to avoid the whining and fits. I would have put a bow in that mouses hair and had a cheese and tea party if it so appeased my tiny terror 🙂

  4. Toni Bologna says:

    Hahahahahha Keisha I so feel you!! And then you just have to get over it and move on!! The amount of forgiveness parents have to feel should be the next renewable energy source. Boys are often more physical than girls… where I am sure the hitting sucks super hard, mine will sometimes look me dead in the face and say “I hate you mom and I am going to destroy your computer while you are sleeping.” No one warns you of that when the are sweet little new borns!! XOXOOXOXOO

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