Let me set the scene for you.
It is 5:32pm and dinner is just about ready.
The babies have been screaming off and on for about the last 20 minutes.
I am trying to get dinner on the table and cooled to that every one can eat.
I have put out the fruit and the vegetable.
Hayden climbs up onto his chair and we have this conversation (I should say, he has this conversation).
“I don’t WANT THIS!!! I AM NOT HAPPY!!!!”
“DON’T TALK TO ME AGAIN! I AM GOING UPSTAIRS TO MY ROOM!” (stomps off up the stairs) “QUINN, GET OUT OF MY WAY! JAKE, LEAVE ME ALONE!”
The door slams shut, not once but twice.
I stand there a little confused as to what has just happened and I am a little baffled because the yelling and commotion that Hayden has just caused has silenced the crying.
I continue with making dinner and getting things ready.
About five minutes later, Hayden comes down.
“Mom, I am ready to be a good boy now. Can we eat dinner? I am sooo hungry and you do such a good job making dinner.”
Some how I have managed to discipline, get an apology and talk about the situation without having to say one word. A job well done for me. Mom wins, I think.