In Or Out

There comes a time in my daily drudgery that pushes me to the point of purging. I'm not Bulimic, and if you ever saw me, you'd laugh at the thought. I'm referring to the forced mass exodus of crap from my house.

I get so fed up with the debris that my children leave laying around, that I want to purchase a snow shovel and fling it out the front door. I refuse to purchase a snow shovel for many reasons, the first being that I don't live at a high enough elevation to warrant the cost. And second, the fact that I believe snow belongs in the mountains.

Getting back on point, I have come to yet another crossroads of crap. I know I could live with far less than I have, and so could my children. We have enough disposable income to have clutter. We don't get crazy with televisions and the new fangled devices, nor do we spend exorbitant amounts of cash on dining out, theater, or other money sucking entertainment. I actually feel guilty if I hit the espresso bar more than twice a week. So, with my conscience getting the best of me, I feel it is time to take the plunge and start sorting through the madness.

Four children can make for a veritable cornucopia of arts and craft supplies. I have so many yarn fragments, it's ridiculous. I have silver brads, beads, and shiny string. I have gel pens, markers, hole punches and glitter glue. I can say with all honesty and barely a straight face that we have at least 5 glue guns in our house. What happened?! I don't know. To make matters worse, I donated, earlier this year approximately $400 worth of craft supplies and accompanying storage devices to the local Boys and Girls club.

Now, there seems to be a shift in interest at least with my eldest. Gone are the days of hours of Lego adventures. So far in the last year, and I mean literally in the last year we have collected, one guitar, one electric guitar, one digital/electric piano, on banjo, one violin, and one alto saxaphone. This is on top of the snare drum and clarinet we already have, and the departure of an old upright. I just can't keep up! So long as the kids keeps practicing and improving on each instrument, I'm cool. If he appears to be showing signs of hoarding, then I'll ship him off to my mother's where his hoarding will be encouraged.

How to get rid of the excess without completely depleting all items that would inspire creativity and thought? I could toss out the televisions and the video games, but dang it, I like them too! I could force my children to read hours a day, but I find myself becoming quite agitated with the incessant whining. I could kick my children outside, but can't, in good conscience, force them to do something that I'm not willing to do in the dead of Winter.

Wait! Maybe that's my problem. It's been winter for approximately 16 months now. I've been purchasing entertainment tools and gadgets to keep my kids occupied whilst mother nature sequesters us indoors for an insanely inhumane amount of time.

Perhaps I'll just move.

Wishing I Could Fix It

One week ago one of my twins was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. After some intensive care, and many IVs, she was on the mend, and the whole family was in the throws of diabetes education. Having been through this, I can honestly say that I don't wish this type of stress on anyone. I know of families who have had to deal with more treacherous diagnoses, and even worse outcomes, so I consider myself blessed to be burdened with such a manageable disease.

My heart breaks for this little girl who will have to take such a serious look at her food forever. No more can she absentmindedly nosh at a birthday party. Gone are the days of digging into a bucket of popcorn at the movie theater. Every gram of sugar (or any carbohydrate for that matter) shall be accounted for and treated accordingly.

We are taking the opportunity for all the different ways to calculate her insulin as lessons in math. Not just for her, but for her siblings as well. Lots of addition and division to consider depending on all sorts of criteria. It's going to be an adjustment.

We are trying to get her to understand that we need to treat this like an allergy (and at it's most basic level, it is), and be proactive in our treatment of it, rather than reactive. That's the hard part, since it has to do with food. If you're allergic to something, you just avoid it, or treat it after the fact if you accidentally ingest it. With diabetes, we have to treat every food like an allergen with carbs being the culprit.

I wish I could transfer this to me so she could grow up like every other kid. I wish there was an easy fix, but there isn't.

I'm sorry this post isn't as humorous as the others. I know it lacks wit, and sarcasm, but I just had to get this out. I love my children more than life, and I don't want them to suffer unnecessarily. This is not logical. It's not practical, and it's definitely not fair. It sucks.

You Want Me To What?

A couple months ago, one of the banks I use was shut down and then picked up by another local financial institution. I could really care less as the funds in this account sit at a minimum most of the time. I just got the account because it was at a local bank and therefore convenient, or so I thought.

This particular bank was my 3rd choice as the first two places I walked into were too busy to even acknowledge that I had walked through the door. If they don't have the courtesy to give me the time of day, I can only image what type of careless behavior would be demonstrated with my money. Anyhow, the bank I ended up with was fine. They were very local and always pleasant when I would go in to take care of business.

I was upset when they were absorbed by another banking institution as this mean my in town branch would be closing down and I would now have to go the next town over (literally, I could go north, south or east) to take care of face to face transactions. The convenience factor had now become an issue.

This weekend marked the final transition to the new bank and it's online system. I knew it was coming and figured I would deal with this when it all happened. So, I hopped onto the website this morning to plug in my temporary ID and password so that I could set up my new online banking stuff. What a frickin' nightmare! I am ready to close my account and keep my money in my shoe!

We all know the drill. Once you get into the new system, you have to create your own unique ID and password. This place was so specific, it doesn't lend itself to security. It has to have a minimum numeric symbols and a minimum alpha characters. It took me over 10 minutes to get that all figured out. Never mind that I had done it correctly at least 4 times and it still didn't like what I was putting in. Then for each flippin' page I would have to put in my 'helpful hint' questions. This place knows more about me than my husband does. It would take one disgruntled IT employee to decimate everyone's accounts and disappear. Stupid!

Don't get me wrong, I feel that security is important and that we should be cautious about our user names and passwords, but it seems as though all of these security measures are being put into place to protect us from the bank's security problems. I don't have any plans on being hacked as I don't post my information anywhere. Why would the bank need to take such ridiculous precautions if they were doing their job correctly?

Enough of this rant. I will probably give this 'new' bank a few months to see if they can step up their irritation factor any more. If they succeed at any level with annoying my further, I will be pulling my pittance and placing it elsewhere.

Marked Drowsiness Can Occur

Are there any 4 words in the English language more beautiful when it comes to medicating your child? I think not! I don't know about you, but when my children are under the weather, I don't want them conscious. I want them passed out, quietly sleeping away whatever ails them. Compassionate nursemaid I am not.

Judge me all you want, but when I go to the drug store, I look for drugs. To find something to merely mask the symptoms is not enough for this busy mom. I need something that will take the place of a babysitter. I looked for the 'Marked drowsiness can occur' statement, or anything that says nighttime. I make no apologies for my lack of beside manner. I suck at it, and you know why? I don't want anyone doting over me when I'm sick. Just leave me in a dark corner and don't touch me. Feel free to check in from time to time, but please for the love of all things holy, don't pet my head, offer me anything, or talk to me in a soothing syrupy voice. I think that just exacerbates the symptoms and prolongs my recovery.

I don't ever medicate my children without due cause, and I never over medicate my children. I just want the most bang for my buck, and that means when the proper dosage is administered, I want a lethargic, semiconscious child that may or may not be drooling. I'm fine either way. Give me 2-4 hours of time to be productive and I'll be able to give them the (maximum) 15 minutes of 'good mom doting' that they need (So, I'm told) to make them feel cared for.

I've managed to keep my 4 children alive for a cumulative 42 years. I've only physically scarred one of them - completely by accident, and truth be told, the emotional scars won't be known until they're married and someone else has to deal with them. I think I do a pretty decent job. I'm not the best and will never be awarded mother of the year. I don't want to be - too much expectation. I fail my kids all the time, making me human. I invest my time and energy in hopes that my guidance and tutelage will turn out someone who is well-rounded and mostly normal. Just so you know, with that kind of commitment the same can be said for me, "Marked Drowsiness Can Occur". Thank you God for coffee!

Moving At The Speed Of Dirt

I can't keep up with it! The dirt comes in and piles up faster than I can attack it. It's viral in my home. I can only hope to keep it at bay long enough for company to come over on occasion, and I swear the minute the door closes behind their fannies, the house vomits!

I am the first to admit that I don't like to sweep and mop. I absolutely hate it, and have yet to instill a love for it with any of my children. Today, I was able to get a little bit done. Not for any desire to do so, but for the lack of concentration of my child. She tripped over the dog feeding station ( I guess that's what you'd call it), and dumped water all over the floor. I am please to announce that 10 square feet of my kitchen is nice and clean. Granted, I have a load of towels to do now, but I managed to knock out one of my most dreaded tasks.

I guess I would probably be sweeping and mopping more if that was the only thing left to do. I have a bazillion things to do and therefore have dropped it lower on the list than a pap smear. Well, maybe not that far, but dang close. Put it this way, I would rather count ceiling tiles while enduring something uncomfortable/embarrassing than mop my floors.

Now, what do I like to do? Give me a blender, butter cutter, and some yummy ingredients and I'll hook you up with some tasty treats! If someone would sweep in (Ha! The irony) and clean up after me, I would bake all day long. On a more 'cleany' note, I enjoy matching socks and organizing the linen closet. I'm also a big fan of shredding, and pressure washing. If only my house could survive an internal pressure washing! I wouldn't even have to sweep anymore. I could just spray all the crap outta my house! I think it's time to develop a home that is capable of withstand internal abuse of the pressurized water nature. Anyone know an architect ready to go out on a limb?

Resources vs. Resourcefullness

I'm not big on over consumption, but will bow my head in guilt as I admit I do have a Costco membership. The Spaz and I have had one for over 10 years and have never spent more than $200 in one trip ever. I take that back. We have, but we had a $500 gift card, so technically we didn't spend a dime. We buy the usual: paper towels, TP, soy milk, body soap, and baking supplies. I'm a fan of the paper products, and don't wish to purchase them anywhere else. With all these fancy paper products stocked in my home, why do my children insist on bypassing the resources I have provided, and prefer to wipe their boogers on my walls?

I have tissue, toilet paper, and paper towels. There is no shortage of disposable options. I don't understand the need to re-texture my walls with snot. It's gross people. Any mom will tell you that once dried upon the wall, it is almost impossible to remove, and once it is pried loose, it usually takes a chuck of paint with it.

My kids are booger ninjas too! I never catch them in the act. Magicians one and all! Their slight of hand is better than most Vegas illusionists. I'm sure this has been an ongoing issue with moms since the dawn of time, but I'm guessing the cave women didn't mind as much as their modern counterparts.

If my kids have an aversion to paper products, I would prefer them wipe those nasty nuggets on their clothing. They will wash out. It's the lesser of two evils and I will take what I can get. Please for the love of all things holy, stop wiping it on my walls! The only redeeming thing about this journey is the fact that when my children finally have children, they can sit in the hallway, bedroom, bathroom, and any other room in the house with walls, slowly soaking that disgusting junk of their own walls. Karma....tee hee!

Rock On Mediocrity!!!!

Doesn't sound so appealing does it? We have come to praise the mediocre and the mediocre have come to expect it. I don't push my children to excellence through fear and criticism. I encourage them to achieve more than they thought they could through subtle encouragement. When one of my daughters brings me a drawing, I of course praise them for their efforts. I try to point out some details of their art that I found attractive, and then tell them that their practicing is paying off. They are getting better and better all the time.

How many people do you know put out minimal effort and expect maximum praise? I know quite a few who have succumbed to this thinking. What happened to striving? When has just simply acknowledging one's potential been considered enough? Why wouldn't we want to maximize it and see how far it can take us?

I see this every day with my children. I ask them to complete a chore around the house, and more often than not, I see the absolute minimum of effort exerted to complete it. I kid you not, sometimes their idea of cleaning the bathroom is putting down the toilet seat, closing the shower curtain, and pushing all the dirty clothes behind the door. They are completely blind to the empty toilet paper roll on the holder, the dried toothpaste in the sink, and the collage of hand prints on the mirror. Never mind the fact that the wastebasket has warped into a cascading heap of dental floss, tissues, and whatever else has been thrown in the general direction.

I will continue to show my children the correct way to clean a bathroom in hopes that someday they will actually 'see' what a clean bathroom looks like. I will continue to have hope that their clutter blindness will miraculously be healed around the time they move out. At this point, they know that I will not invite people over to our house so long as they don't see the value in effort.

Most of the time I get off track here in my rants about life and the kids that make it crazy, but I think that it does somehow relate. I don't sugarcoat what I have in my house. I don't sugarcoat the state of my car, and I certainly don't sugarcoat the level of insanity that I have reached in my attempts to encourage my children to be better than mediocre. If I have to completely lose my mind for them to want to be better than average, then I will die a certifiable loon. I'm okay with that. I would rather trade my sanity so my children will reach their potential, than sit casually back and praise their indifference. There's too much of that surrounding them, and I refuse to let them believe that this should be the norm.

Like Moths to a Flame

Is it just me, or do you find that when your spouse and you are deep in discussion, your children tend to gather 'round to find out what's going on? It's the same the minute my attention is no longer at their disposal. The phone rings, a neighbor comes to the door, the dog barf on the kitchen floor: they're all means of limiting the amount of attention I can shower on my children.

I will confess, quite reluctantly I might add, that there are times where I welcome these distractions to get away from the constant pulling of my sleeve, repeated calling of my name, and the tattling that begins from the moment my kids' cute little piggy toes hit the carpet. And, to add insult to injury, the more they nag me when I'm otherwise distracted, the more I will continue to shoot down their attempts to draw me away. Mamma needs to 'shut er down' for a while sometimes.

We've all been there. Our own little sanctuary of peace. You know the place about which I speak - the bathroom. They know what you're doing in there. They understand the concept of privacy, because you've pounded it into their heads over and over again. Why then, do you still get faces pressed up against the door, heavy breaths heard through the cracks in the door jam, and fingers desperately reaching under the door? Why must they disrupt these few moments of solitude in your day? I think they fear that they might miss out on Mommy's best moment. They want to be there when you light up the room with your smile, and they get to see that twinkle in your eye. Little do they know, or care to know, that those few stolen (wait, necessary) moments in the bathroom are DEFINITELY not going to be the highlight of your day, but you have to love their optimism.

I have told my kids on countless occasions prior to my engaging in something to not bother me unless they are on fire or physically holding an eyeball. Back in January, I was in my church's talent show, and needed to practice my routine at the local YMCA. I was twirling the baton and needed to get the routine set to music, so every time my children interrupted my process, I had to back up and start over. It can be very frustrating. In my 2nd week of competition, I told my twins, who had accompanied me on this practice trip, that I was not to be interrupted. They could play in the studio with me, but not bother me.

Why, you ask, would a mom tell her kids such things? Well, because if I don't lead with this disclaimer, my children will interrupt me to tell me they found a booger on the wall, have a freckle on their left pinky, or that they decided to wear their monkey panties today. I have to draw the line somewhere. I just wanted 45 minutes to an hour of relatively uninterrupted practice time.

On this occasion, I was about 45 minutes in, and things were going well when my raven haired twin was trying to console my flaxen haired twin. Thinking they had argued over something, and feelings were hurt, I did my best to forge onward. The ruckus continued, so finally I stopped and asked what was going on. My flaxen haired twin had managed to drop a 5lb dumbbell on her left hand squishing two fingers. She was crying silently. When I asked her why she didn't come get me, she replied, "But mom, you didn't want us to bother you".

FAIL!

We quickly wrapped up the practice session, headed to the front desk to obtain an ice pack, and headed home. On the ride home in the car, I told them that such injury did warrant an interruption. It was discovered later that night that she had broken one finger - splitting the bone at the tip, and ultimately ended up losing two fingernails. Poor thing.

I will say the policy is still effect, but my children now better understand when to interrupt.

Spa Day

Ah, the spa day. I haven't had many in my life, and doubt I'll throw money at the industry much in the future. I do agree with many that it is a delightful stress reliever. Gone are the days of the lazy Saturday where I wonder what might pop into my schedule. I have not idea how I managed to have nothing to do for so many years. These days my schedule is so cram-packed, that not knowing what's coming next isn't about not having anything on the schedule, it's about having so much on the schedule that I can't keep track.

This morning, I realized that I do get spa days. Even though these one's are free, I still enjoy them. They aren't that long; maybe an extra 5 minutes of free time allotted to this luxury. I wish I could do it every day. Some of you do, and I admit that I'm a bit jealous. I just don't have enough time or energy in my day, every day, to shave my legs. This has become my new spa day. Sad.

To do a little brow shaping, well, that is outright indulgence there! Unfortunately that type of pampering comes under the shadow of darkness after all have turned in for the night, and I am still too wound up from the day to do anything else. Again, I admit that there just isn't enough time to schedule a wax session with the local esthetician. Besides, I wouldn't pay that kind of money for the amount of pain I would endure. Thank you, no, I'll do it myself.

I've had 8 massages in my life. They are fantastic. It's been 3 years since my last one. HA! I feel like I'm in confession - and I'm not even Catholic! I don't seem to find the luxury that people do worth the money. Let's just add up all the 'Luxury', shall we?

1 set of acrylic nails - $50 -including tip
1 fill on acrylic nails - $25 - including tip
1 massage - $60
1 hair appointment (averaging the cost of cut and color) - $60 - including tip
1 waxing - $20 - including tip
1 coffee purchase daily x 5 days x 4wks - $85 - including tip

For one month I could reasonably spend $300 on luxury type items, most of which revolve around my appearance. I don't think so. I will admit that I spend roughly $50 per month on espresso purchases, but nothing on any of the other items listed above. I don't see the point. Who am I trying to impress? Or even better, why am I trying to impress? Why would I feel so incomplete as 'myself' that I must be 'Me +': that I would have to add outside crap in order to feel like I'm now acceptable within my circle of influence? This type of behavior would make me question my circle of influence.

So, I'll stick with my extra 5 minute leg shave every couple days and be content with the fact that I have chipped fingernails, a couple wayward eyebrows, and grey hair. I put on make up for photos, and I wear jewelry when I go on date nights. The rest of the time, I'm just me. And I'm quite alright with that.

Bull/China Shop Conundrum

Some days I'm the bull. Some days I'm the china shop, but most of the time I'm just the janitorial staff.

Today I'm the china shop. I'm putting up a good front, and only I am aware of how fragile everything is on the inside. Everything is teetering on the verge of collapse, and I'm trying to hold it together. My strong facade is hindering my ability to ask for help. Show no weakness. Don't drag others into your little freak show of a pity party.

Do I just suppress these feelings of inadequacy so that the pressure of it all will eventually sling shot back at me with 100X the negative force? I'm not a failure. I haven't done anything to warrant such conclusions, but here I am knee deep in self loathing and cut-throat micro scrutiny. I need to understand this. I feel compelled to find out the 'why' behind this sudden onslaught of gut wrenching self-hatred.

It's interesting with me being such a highly competitive person that I have yet to be able to best my own inner voice. To state that this sucks doesn't even begin to touch this feeling of complete disdain.

I know most of this stems from regret. I'm carrying the burden of past failures and seem to be willing to flaunt them in front of my current self as some sort of self-sabotage scheme. It's very effective in keeping me stagnant.

Parental One Upsmanship

While driving home from Mill Creek this morning, I noticed on the back of a car a bumper sticker. I have never been one to plaster stickers all over my car and the topic of my rant here today holds a special place of disdain in my heart. The sticker read: Proud Parent of a Scholar.

Really? Does it make you feel better to shout to the world that your child has cognitive skills? My child has cognitive skills, and I refuse to minimize them by slapping a sticker on my car. Does the parent feel better about themselves because they are letting complete strangers know that their kid is smart? What about their other kids? How does that make them feel? Is this kid your favorite? I just don't get it.

I happen to be a Proud Parent. I don't need to add any more to the statement. I'm a proud parent when my kid uses a word in a sentence that I never knew they understood. I'm equally as proud that they remember to flush the toilet. There's not high or low in the pride department. Shoot, I'm just proud I managed to birth them and not kill them in the process. That, my friends, is a feat unto itself. The proud moments, at least at this point in their development, have always outweighed the disappointed moments. But, if those disappointing moments become teaching moments, and they actually get it, then a proud moment it becomes.

Proud Parent of an honor student. So what! My kid is has the ability to be an excellent liar. Deception is a sign of intelligence. Should I put a bumper sticker on my car that says, "Proud Parent of a Pathological Liar". Intelligence is found everywhere. So tout that your child's intelligence has been determined by the public school system isn't something to be proud of, in my humble opinion. Be proud when your kid can make change out of a twenty, or can figure out how much 25% off is on a sale item. Be proud when you have taught them to cut apart a chicken and prepare it properly. Be proud, when they find a wallet/iPod/cell phone and turn it in to the closest person of authority.

Am I overstepping my bounds a bit on this: Getting a bit carried away? Possibly, but in this day and age, I have come to realize that these small displays of one upsmanship are usually eclipsed later on by greater displays of "My Child is Better at _____________". My kids can shower, brush their teeth, wash dishes, and to a multitude of other domestic tasks. Those are all fine and dandy, but what makes me the most proud is to catch them being polite to each other when they think I'm not looking. So, maybe I should put a sticker on my car that says "Proud Parent of a Repectful Child".

Power Struggles

So, my son is of the age where going to the roller skating rink every Friday night, is the thing to do. He starts his campaigning on about Wednesdays hoping that I'll be sick enough of his carrying on to be willing to rid myself of his chatter for a couple hours come Friday. Unfortunately, he is also under the microscope for behavior and school work. If those two things aren't in alignment with what we are expecting, then no roller skating for our boy child.

This week, in particular, I was not inclined to send him as his math had been suffering, but one of my twins was willing to pony up the funds for him to go if he was willing to clean areas of her choosing. This created quite a power/money struggle with these two yesterday. My daughter was able to lord over her older brother with the proverbial waving of the money in his face, while he was trying to be philosophical about when he would do the designated work, and how long it would take him. It was actually very interesting to witness. With children, situations like these are so pure. They have yet to develop the intellect to muddy the waters. I was able to watch human interaction at its finest. In the end, my son managed to get the cleaning done when my daughter asked him to, and apparently to her satisfaction, as my boy child did, in fact, go skating last night.


Has anyone over the age of 35 been in a skating rink on a Friday night when it's packed with teens? I cannot accurately describe the smell. I liken it to a combination of hormones, body odor, and mystery. When I pick my son up, I always say when he gets in the car that he smells like people. As an adult who has done her share of club hopping, I liked coming home and washing the smell of cigarettes and whatever else was lingering in the air at the club. It's that type of thing, but on a teenage level. The air at the roller skating rink is so rife with pheromones that it's palpable.

Have I Create Monsters?

We've all done it. We've been somewhere and rewarded our children with a tasty treat. There could be only two reasons why you would throw all nutritional wisdom aside and allow your children to consume what could only be described as a ridiculous amount of fat and sugar. Those reasons being, 1 - you felt like it, and/or 2 - you just wanted to shut them up. In the moment the price of peace far outweighs any consequence that may result.

I have done this for both reasons on WAY more than a few occasions, and now that my children are older and much more advanced in their pestering skills, I fear I have created sugar monsters. I think I may finally be getting through to them with my constant babbling about the fact that everything they want costs money, and I don't have money for everything. I am also currently adhering to a no exercise, no treat policy. We have had lengthy discussion about healthy BMI. My twins may not grasp the concept entirely, but they know that poor food choices leads to a poor BMI.

So, am I a bad mom for letting something like this slide for so long before lassoing them back in, or am I a bad mom for allowing it to happen in the first place? Either way I feel like I let my kids down in the healthy choices department. I don't know how to process this. Today, I wonder if my kids will ever outgrow the 'Can I? Can I? Can I?' stage.

Considering the genetic propensity toward the more rotund frame on both mine and my husbands side, I fear that my children are going to get the worst of both worlds when it comes to handling weight and body image. Since losing my weight over the last 7 years, I do not discuss weight in terms of 'fat' or 'skinny'. Those are such negative and awful terms! Our house uses 'healthy' and 'unhealthy'. I don't really take issue with my kids' body proportions right now. They're still growing. But, I must be diligent in my positive reinforcement when it comes to food and activity choices. (It's a good thing they're in bed right now whilst I tap away on this laptop with my bum planted firmly yet comfortably in bed!)

What are your thoughts on this? I would love to hear ideas, or suggestions on what you do in your family to promote healthy living.

Welcome to That's G.L.A.M.!

No matter where we are in our career as a mom, we've all said those words, "That's gonna leave a mark". In more ways than I can fathom we are leaving a mark on the lives of our children. From our actions to our works, and everything in between, we are leaving a mark on their blueprint.

As a mom of 4, I'm sure I've not been the best architect in the building of their character. I could blame my parents and the adults that I came into contact with as a child, but there comes a point where I have to step up, be accountable, and decided to do things differently if I don't like the way things are going.

Don't we all wish that we had more patience? I sure do. I know that my frustration fuse can be short. I get frazzled and my kids can see it. Shoot, they hear it when I tell them that they're driving me bonkers! I'm sure I drive them bonkers too.

I was thinking yesterday as I was driving along in the rain, that from the birth of my oldest to the birth of my twins, I managed to pump out 4 kids in 34 months. I am confident when I say that their closeness in age makes for some special tension and bickering in my house. There are days where I wish they were allowed to eat breakfast in their room so I could enjoy my coffee and cereal in relative peace.

Anyone else feel that way? I know I'm no alone.