I feel like my voicebox is broken, and I must only be hearing my voice in my own head.
This would explain why my kids hear me repeat the same mantras endlessly, and yet ignore me with impunity.
"Don't hit your brother!"
"Close the fridge!"
"Stop yelling!"
"No sitting on the dog!" (Yes, really.)
"Pick up the legos! Pick UP the LEGOS!"
And
the list goes on and on. In between the thousand things I hope to
accomplish every day (and you and I both know that, of those, I
accomplish - optimistically - 4) I find myself saying the same things
over and over until I am pretty sure I'm developing that vein that my
Dad always got on the side of his forehead when he got mad. I can FEEL
it pulsing and swelling until it threatens to explode in the
Mother-Of-All-Aneurysms.
But I keep hoping, in spite of
all signs to the contrary, that maybe NEXT time will be the time that
sticks, and suddenly they will get it.
This is when I remember the most succinct definition of insanity that I have ever heard:
Insanity is repeating the same action over and over, with the expectation of a different result.
(See
also: Slot Machines that never pay out, vending machines that won't
take your dollar no matter how many times you try to straighten it out
on the edge of the machine, and expecting there to be a roll of toilet
paper available when you need one).
Which proves it: Parenthood makes you crazy. It's totally not my fault, y'all.
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