Obvious Speak

Do you ever find yourself saying something to your children that is SO ridiculously OBVIOUS it seem ludicrous to actually have to say the words out loud?  Statements like, “Mia, Toby doesn’t like it when you pull his hair” or “In our house, Mia, we don’t touch our pooh” come out smoothly and without a second thought, but every now and then I CATCH myself uttering the ridiculously obvious and I think to myself, “WHAT am I SAYING?  And WHY does it need to be said?!?!”   If this new habit of mine somehow transferred to my work environment I would walk into every exam room, smile and state, “Why hello, Mr. Smith, you are wearing a yellow shirt and jeans today!”  My patients would think I was bat shit crazy.   Today, I began to think so myself.

It started with a 10-minute car ride. TEN MINUTES.  What could possibly go wrong?  

HA!

I was dropping Toby at a birthday party and I had this sudden flash of desire to be the best wife in the world and offered to TAKE Mia with me for the car ride so Rob could enjoy TWENTY MINUTES of uninterrupted, childfree peace in the MIDDLE of a Sunday morning.

What did he ever do to deserve that?

(I suppose it lost its integrity when I returned home 20 minutes later; both of us a screaming hot mess.)

The ride there was fine, it was on the way back that Mia started to whine and then moan and then fling herself back and forth in her car seat in fits of unexplained rage.  Obvious sentence #! :  “Is something wrong, Mia?” I asked.  DUH the kids was flailing every limb that she had while rocking her head back and forth and wailing.  She MIGHT have also been foaming at the mouth but I couldn’t see for sure because I was driving and her head movements were THAT fast.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint what EXACTLY the problem was.  She started with saying she was hungry.  When I told her we were now 9 minutes from home and would have lunch when we got there she changed her tactic and decided that maybe she was tired.  I told her she could skip lunch and go to bed.  That didn’t go over well.    Needless to say.

So then she wanted a movie.  (We don’t watch movies in the car unless we are going on a long drive).  She KNEW the answer to that one before she asked it but I think she just needed SOMETHING that merited the cathartic limb shaking.

My refusal gave her room to escalate but we were still 8 minutes from home and she doesn’t have quite the attention span to be THAT upset about one SINGLE THING for that monstrosity of a time frame.  So she change found another reason for her affliction, through her blood curdling screams, I heard emerge the request for a book.

Mia has about 10 books sitting beside her in the back seat for moments EXACTLY like this one.  It would be WAY too much to expect her to reach over the arm width distance to get one for herself, so I stealthily reached around behind the seat, grabbed the top book and handed it to her.

“MIA NO WANT A BOOK!!!!!”

She caterwauled at me before throwing it at my head.

Obvious sentence #2: “Mia, please don’t throw books at Mommy’ s head while she’s driving” came out as calmly as a serenity prayer.

“MIA WANT A BOOK!”  Was her reply.

Repeat cycle.

After being hit in the head 3 times I decided that it was time to resign myself to a loud drive home.  There was NO STOPPING irrational Mia.

My second scenario of the day came after the much needed (but alas, yet still not quite long enough nap).  She woke up bright eyed, cheerful and ready to face the second half of the day. I offered her a snack, which she loved, and then suggested we go outside.  Mia ALWAYS wants to go outside.  She was off her stool and at the door before I had to ask twice.

But alas, then came the part when I tried to put her socks on.

Irrational Mia from the car started to rear hrt ugly head as soon as I held up those darned socks.

“Mia no like those blue sock.”  She informed me both sternly and calmly.

“Well, Mia,” I said (obvious statement #3) "You can’t go outside without your boots and socks on.”

“Mia no LIKE those BLUE SOCKS.” I was informed again with a bit more determination and a pinch of cra-cra to boot.

I suggested maybe she’d like to go to her room and pick out a different coloured pair?

And with that, seemingly reasonable suggestion, the limb flailing, head shaking, tear producing fit started all over again until I could finally reiterate obvious statement #3 again to her.  It was quite simple, really; we actually could NOT go outside without socks or shoes.

“But Mia WANT TO GO OUTSIDE” came the wail that sent snot pouring in all directions.

“Then put your socks on!” I said naively.

And so the cycle repeated itself.

 By the time Toby and Rob came home from soccer – ONE FULL HOUR LATER – we were still there, sitting on opposite sides of the front hall, a pair of blue socks and an empty tissue box between us.

Obvious statement #4 answered my husband’s questioning stare,

“Mia didn’t want to put her socks on…”