Do you ever get the feeling that as soon as the school bus pulls up to drop off your darlings, your life is about to take a dive into the twilight zone?

I have lived through the “witching hour” for let’s see, how many years now? Used to be easy when I could just park the kids in front of the TV and feed them cheerios. But now, just months before middle school starts, the witching hour has morphed into the bitching hour (s).

I have a very faint memory of how dinnertime used to be before kids. I think it went something like this:
COOK.
EAT.
TALK TO AN ADULT.
So how has dinnertime changed. Oh, let me count the ways!
PERCHING. May I start with just how my kids “perch” on their chairs at the table? Yes, like a bird perches on a feeder! They refuse to use their butts to sit on, they perch on the chairs using their toes. I hear that it’s a very common nuisance at school. It’s become so popular, that the principal has included the “no perching” warning as part of the morning announcement! 
See what I mean, these birds are perched! The one that has something to screech about is most likely Channel Chick!
Moving on to BABBLING! And this isn’t just reserved for girls. Since I have a boy and a girl, yes the same age, this goes for both of them. I can literally eat my yummy dinner, clean up the dishes, put away the leftovers, and leave the room, all while ONE of them is still babbling about one story! Move onto trying to watch a couple of decent TV shows, get ready for bed, brush teeth, and the other one is still following me around like a lost sheep repeating the same story. It’s maddening, if you will!
And yes, they still talk to me through closed doors, I thought that might stop years ago. NOPE!  I get the play by play no matter what door I’m hiding behind.

BICKERING, the most dreaded word in the dictionary, oh yea, besides summer break. If these two could only agree on ONE thing, that would be to disagree about everything! They are both so sensitive to one anothers comments and evil glances that I’m tempted to enroll then in a tough love for kids boot camp! For craps sake, grow some callouses would ya!

What’s next?

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