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Enough of the boring crap. I am ready to move on the truly mundane.

I took an online IQ test through ivillage yesterday. I am sorry to say, I think it is flawed. I scored a 158. Now, I will readily admit to anyone who will listen that I am smart. That is really not up for debate (okay, I know it is getting deep, but humor me). The test said I have a strong grasp of logical patterns. Bahahahahaha. I am the most illogical person one can meet. Anything that even smell remotely like math scares and befuddles me. I like to think of myself as a creative person. That gives me a reason to be flighty and disorganized and totally unmathmatical.

Sundays in our house are just too stressful for words. MIL takes my two oldest to church with her. This morning, I couldn't send Jay because he is wheezing again and it is cold, cold, cold today. So just Five wet. It was a casual day (thank God), but it still took me 15 minutes to find him soemthig to wear. W. is in charge of laundry these days. I won't go into too much more detail--suffice to say, Five wore the shorts he wore to school yesterday and a clean shirt.

Jay and Sam have taken to hitting and biting each other. Brotherly love. As I sat watching them play, Jay picked up G.I. Joe and just walloped Sam over the head with it. Um, hello?? I had to surpress the urge to ask him what the fuck he was doing. Sam is bawling, yelling "Day Day" over and over and rubbing his head. Jay just shrugs and walks away. Once I gather my senses about me, I ask him why he did it.


"I don't know."

"Do you see that you hurt Sam?"

"Uh-huh"

"What do you think you should say to him"

"Dambo, top cry-ding!!! (Jay has a speech problem, this translates to Sam, stop crying!")



Needless to say, this was not the repsonseI was hoping for. After a quick discussion on apologies, Jay is taken to his room. This is his third offense of the morning--the other two involved ignoring his mother.

I put him on his bed. Immediately he asks me if he can be nice now. Of course I realize that he has no real concept of why he is being punished. I should have had a heart to heart about consequences with him. Instead I tell him he has to stay in time out andhe better not get off the bed. I go to my room and come back. He is half on/half off the bed. When I tell him to get on the bed, he is indignant.



"I am on the bed."



Okay, technically, yes, but I won't back down. I put him up there and sit with him. I try once again to explain the whole consequence concept. He nods and looks at me with total clarity. I am sure that I have gotten through to him. I ask him if he has any questions.



"Can I be nice now?"


So much for my attempts to be logical with him. He understands mean and nice. Yes and no. Sleep and awake. Good and bad.



Yes, Jay, you can go be nice.