This morning we went on a walk.
Today, like every day, we were playing outside and my kids took off together, running down the sidewalk. So I followed. We like to walk around the block and explore, look at flowers, climb up and down steps, knock on every door we pass, etc.
Then, about half way around the block, they started running into the road.
Over and over again. I would pull them back, and say, "No, we stay in the yards, the road is for cars. Don't go in the street."
And they would run back into the street.
They didn't even feign obedience. There was not even a two-second delay between my reprimands and their next attempt.
Why didn't I hold their hands or pick them up, you ask? Well, maybe you've forgotten that I have TWO toddlers.
Micah started screaming. He screamed for the 20 minutes it took to get back home (yeah, we were only half way around our block, and it took 20 minutes to get home.) If I picked him up, he was kicking, flailing, punching, and biting. It took at least all my arms and willpower to contain him, and I also had another child to deal with.
Grey, equally maddening, was grinning. He was smiling, shaking his head no, and repeating under his breath "Ro, ro, ro." (I can't decide if he was saying "No" or "road"), because he knew what he was doing was naughty, and he was loving it.
If I held their hands, they tried to break away by twisting and pulling their arms (Grey while smiling, Micah while screaming like he was being tortured.)
When they realized that I had a grasp like a mighty hawk, they lifted up their feet. So I could either drag them along behind me, or carry them over the sidewalk by one arm like screaming, kicking purses, but they refused to stand.
Despite me yelling things like, "YOU ARE MAKING BAD CHOICES! YOU NEED TO STAND UP AND WALK! STOP BITING ME THIS INSTANT!" they continued to be total and complete a-holes.
Several times, when I had them both by the wrist, and they were both sitting on the ground, refusing to budge (Micah, of course, screaming) I would let go of them and squat down, "We need to walk home, you need to make good choices. I can carry you or you can walk, but if you walk, you cannot go in the road."
Grey would get up and start running towards the street, while Micah would lie facedown and bang his own head against the cement. Then the screaming would redouble, because of the pain of his idiocy.
I would go grab Grey and return to see Micah sprawled out on the sidewalk having a total meltdown.
"Great. I will carry you," I would say (seriously, this happened like 5 times.)
I would pick Micah up while still holding Grey, take about four steps forwards, and then have to set them down, because they were kicking, hitting, and head butting me and each other and I had to put them down before I dropped them.
Somehow we made it home.
I gave each of my children a banana then I went into the bathroom and shut the door.
They made a HUGE mess in the living room, but it's better than me murdering them for being completely evil little demons, right?
Now they are sleeping in their beds. I guess tantrums and naughtiness can be exhausting.