a desperate mamma's morning

I woke up angry today. Unprovoked, but angry. What is with me lately? Does one get menopausal at 38 years? I'm angry for no reason, will not get out of bed, but must, otherwise my six year old will not be in time for school. And it does not help that I have two boys who absolutely will not listen, and when they listen, immediately forget what they are asked to do.

 I come up the stairs and see them standing outside the bathroom singing that stupid Ylvis song "wa da foss say, dan dan da dan dan da na na na da da da dan na na na na, wa da foss say ..." Ah ... that song drives me nuts ... can someone do me a favor and whip the Ylvis brothers?  They have made life a living hell for some of us who have young children.

Today I really do not have the energy to fuss and nag them into doing the morning routine, so I choose to play the savings-card; "If you manage to brush your teeth and put on clothes without mamma nagging, you get 5 kroner each."  "YEEEEEEEESS," they exclaim, but that's as far as it goes. Soon the bickering starts ,"mammaaaa, he calls me stupid" ... and " mammaaa he will not let me put the toothbrush in the cup" .. and "mammaa he is singing the same song as me", and then its full scale war .... ooooh, shoooot me!

 The bigger boy is told that he has lost the right to the money. He runs out of the bathroom crying. "I refuse to brush my teeth or put on my clothes ... I  won't get the money anyway" ... he whines to pappa. NOW I'm dangerously angry and feel the African in me, the one who has grown up with "spare the rod and spoil the child", starting to come alive. Now I must leave this boy to his father who is Norwegian and is more afraid of the Child Protection Department than I am, or there will be blood in this house.

 I leave the bathroom and take refuge in the kitchen where I make breakfast and lunch packs. Pappa is in charge in the bathroom now, but he's so sleepy in the mornings that putting on his own clothes the right way is like moving a mounain. And sure enough I soon hear "wa da foss say " accompanied by vigorous dancing. The dressing up is totally forgotten, and it's almost 8:10, they must eat and the bigger boy must be in class at kl.08.30.

 I come out and announce that not only have they lost the right to new savings, now I would take money off of the savings they already have if I have to nag more. It helps. Within 15 minutes they are done with dressing and breakfast. But I'm already fed up. I throw the whole lot out, including pappa, tossing lunchboxes, shoes and jackets after them (yes. .. roughly!) and lock the door. I think such episodes can make parents (me) more dangerous than hard baked criminals. Well, parents who believe they are menopausal at least.

Greetings from the mad African