I arrived home late this evening and both Etienne and I have had a hectic week at work so far. I think the kids picked up on it, even though we don’t talk about work or snap at the kids (that we know of).
They put us through the wringer between supper and bedtime, we are still reeling.
Point in case:
Wednesday nights are fish nights. Every single Wednesday night there is a massive drama and crying (I HAAATTTEEE FISH!!) and the odd time-out until they simmer down and actually take a bite and they declare it delicious. We roll our eyes Every Single Time. I just need to add that the drama is usually caused by one of the girls, Daniel will eat roadkill if you dress it up as salad.
But tonight was a hell all by itself. We dish up the fish. Isabel starts sobbing, she’s not eating fish. She hates fish. We ignore. She carries on. We say, have you tried it yet? Yes, she says, sobbing her heart out. (she hadn’t even sniffed it) Fast forward to our 1-2-3-time out count and off she goes.
Cue 4 minutes of silence with the faraway sounds of a pissed off child in the bathroom.
Isabel comes back to the table.
Mignon pushes her food around the plate, we ask Please try some of your fish. NO! she cries and shoves her plate away, placemat and all. Like we have just suggested she eat some 3 week old brown bananas that have been sitting in the fruit bowl.
Rinse and repeat of Isabel’s episode, sans the trip to the bathroom, as she simmered down at 1-2. But the tears didn’t end. We eventually compromised on more butternut and 2 bites of fish.
Bedtime was a whole other story, I ended up reading to Mignon by herself as she was completely inconsolable. I think they are feeling the pinch with lack of attention at the moment, my babies.
As a side-bar: You know what’s the weirdest thing I only realised when silence descended?
We don’t get pissed off, we don’t get emotional. We stick together and we back each other up. But fark it’s hard work. So much for not wanting to drink at all this week.
Here is Mignon in all her sad glory: