How I Torture and Poison My Children

Before you go calling DCFS on me, understand that I do not actually torture and poison my children. Although, from the looks and attitude I get from them at times, you'd think that's exactly what I was doing.

My girls are tweeners, ages 11 and 9. They are smart, kind, generous and beautiful. Not that I'm biased, or anything. Since we tried for years with no success in getting pregnant (5 years to be exact), we didn't think we ever would. However, God blessed me with two rather miserable pregnancies that resulted in two very healthy little girls. I know that my children are answered prayer, and I do not ever want to take that for granted.

However, there are days when I understand why lions eat their young. If you are a parent and you are human, you know exactly what I am talking about. I also understand Bill Cosby talking about his father saying, "I brought you into this world: I can take you out and make another one that looks just like you."  I can totally relate.

But back to the "torturing" and "poisoning" going on around our home. How do I "torture" my children, you ask? The biggest way is that I force them to put down their stupid DS games, turn off the TV or Wii, and go outside and play. Pure torture, I tell you! I also torture them by expecting them to be responsible humans; responsible for their actions and decisions, and responsible around the house. The have jobs, or chores if you prefer. My oldest helps care for our two pugs. She brushes them, feeds them, waters them, takes them for walks, and picks up their poops from the yard. OK, so this last one is slightly torturous; you'd never believe what can come out of a toy breed dog. Sheesh. My youngest helps me by running between floors getting things that I need or forgot. This morning, I ran out of eggs while making breakfast, and she made the trip to the spare fridge to get another dozen. She helps me cook, she will occasionally help do dishes, and she LIKES dusting (so I guess that doesn't count as torture, huh?). They are both required to make their beds, keep their rooms neat, clean the bathroom the two of them share and make their own lunches for school.  I'm so mean.

Of course, we then have the poisoning. As a frugal (cheap) stay-at-home mom (for more on being frugal - cheap - check out an earlier post, My Bits Were Bruised), I cook or prepare nearly every meal every day (except their lunches, but I still have to feed the hubby and I). The main meal we share as a family is dinner. Dinner usually includes a meat, a veggie and starch. I'm a darn good cook, too; I can roast a chicken or turkey to perfection, I grow my own garden veggies then take the time to steam them on the stove, I grill steaks that melt in your mouth, and my baking skills keep me in double digit sizes with a "Wuh" after them. So yummy. HOWEVER, I have children that don't like anything with gravy, hate casseroles, refuse to eat anything that comes out of a crockpot, and won't eat the foods on the plate that just happen to touch each other. Ugh. One likes chicken, one doesn't. One wants mac and cheese with corn dogs (don't blame me, I've NEVER brought corn dogs into my house EVER), while the other one wants pasta with meatballs every day. Add to that, no one in my family likes spicy food, and the spicy Italian in me wants to huddle in a corner and sob. I hate "blandizing" my food.

Last night, I made baked chicken thighs, steamed garden fresh green beans, and long cooked rice seasoned with chives, butter and Brady Street sprinkle from Penzey's. I even divvied up the chicken thighs - most were Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce, two were Shake n Bake and one was just salted - all to meet the tastes of my family. My oldest asked, "Mom, what's for dinner?"  When I told her what we were having, she dramatically frowned and slumped herself so far forward, I thought she would smack her head on the counter. Yep, poison, I tell you. That's what my meals are; pure poison. Sheesh. Turns out, after she started eating the meal I made, she said with a mumbled, full-of-food-mouth, "Dis is weally dood, Mom!" Uh-huh. Thanks. So much for poisoning them.

My hope is that over time, I will teach my children how to make wise choices, stay active and essentially put myself out of a job. I know that being a parent never really ends, but I look forward to walking my children through these childhood years and into the years of adulthood where they will use the skills I taught them to torture and poison their own children.

Proverbs 1:8 (NASB)

Hear, my son, your father’s instruction, and do not forsake your mother’s teaching;

Ephesians 6:1-3 (NIV)

1Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 2 “Honor your father and mother”—which is the first commandment with a promise— 3 “so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth

How do your kids think you "torture" them? What do you "poison" them with? Let me know here and on my facebook page - There's a Bug in My Coffee - where we can chat and share our funny experiences. Also, use the box below to sign up for emails when I publish a new post:

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