Don't Say It

You're supposed to knock on wood after saying something you don't want to suddenly change, but I've decided it's best to not say it at all.

We've had two situations play out during the last week that left me wondering why I opened my big mouth in the first place.

Rewind two Friday evenings ago. We're sitting around the table enjoying dinner together when I turn to Jason and say, "Do you realize this is the healthiest winter we've had since having children?"

That night, previously perfectly healthy Gavin wakes me up with the unmistakable croup bark. We spend an hour up with him, first trying the cold air outdoors and then finding relief in a steamy bathroom. We hook up his humidified and I crawl into bed curled up beside him listening to his strained breathing until he finally falls asleep.

The first night was the worst, but over the course of the next week he nearly loses his voice and develops a daytime cough.

Surprisingly, I don't learn from my mistakes. So when I was asked during an ECFE parent group to describe my kids as siblings, I said something akin to, "My kids adore each other. They have a fierce love for each other and get along really well most of the time."

Argh. What is wrong with me?

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my kids were at each other's throats. They're fighting over everything - toys, space, crayons, garbage. Everything. Natalie bosses. Gavin yells. Natalie flings words. Gavin flings toys. She screams. He scratches. She chases and tackles. He pulls hair and hits.

So, the next time I'm about to say something flattering, positive or triumphant, please shove some food in my face or loudly change the conversation.

I'm a little too busy with croup and fighting to handle any more.