It's been a bad day. A day of ignoring me, It doesn't matter if you're the father figure, my children, my students or contractors. No one listened to me at all today. I wish I was exaggerating to make a point. But I'm not. It was a bad day.

It had its moments. I managed to look like an acceptable mother on the book of faces. Well. the fact that I was on the book of faces probably negates any of the benefits I would have gained by appearing to be a good mother. Oh well. There was a game on Facebook where you were to add the phrase "with a chainsaw" to the end of the last book you read. My entry was "Thomas the Tank Engine's Happy Birthday Surprise....with a chain saw." I was pleased because this indicated that I had actually read something to my children. Something other than the riot act.

But I was back, reading the riot act away, later that afternoon. We were on a tight schedule. Between work and ring around the receiver with various contractors--trying to wrap my head around the fact that there was a $1300 swing between bids for the same job--I needed the children to quickly and quietly get ready to go. I had to take the father figure's work boots into be repaired, as they looked as if his heels had been the only brakes on his theoretical motorcycle. We had swimming lessons, soccer and voting to do before I could get home to meet the next contractor. Tight schedule people. And it was clear from the thumping upstairs that obedience wasn't on the list of things to do. Baba was the ring leader. Quite literally. I walked into their bedroom and saw Baby and Mac and X-Man all chasing Baba, running in circle.

Sing goddess, sing of the wrath of the mother. Whoo boy did I lose it. The older three stood before me, heads bent, with all the appearances of remorse. Remorse that they got caught, I'm sure. And I raised the roof. X-Man was a little late to the party. He had continued to run around the circle of remorse but even he could not ignore my wrath. He hasn't seen me like this, possibly ever, so he was obviously concerned that he handle the situation correctly. He pushed his way to the front and center of his siblings, turned his face heavenward and began to bellow. I was upset enough that I ignored him at first, in fact he wasn't even on my radar. But despite the severity of my lecture, I could see the allegedly contrite children's mouths begin to twitch. That did not help my blood pressure. But I did pause to observe X-Man's depiction of "Child Mid Lecture." He was still bellowing, a bellowing similar to the sounds he makes when he is set on the potty. He was rubbing his eyes as if there were tears there, an academy award performance if ever there was one. "Are you sorry for being naughty X-Man?" He picked up on the change in tone of my voice, removed his hands and betrayed his dry eyes. We made eye contact, his little brown eyes had that gleam in them.
er there was one. I stopped mid threat and looked at him.
And then in a moment that, while amusing makes me just a wee bit terrified for the future, he spun around, and began pushing his siblings "GO GO GO!" 

The scheme is strong in this one.