No words.

Some people's children take their breath away. Mine take my words away. I used to be sharp, I used to be quick, I used to be innovative.
I used to have an answer for everything.

My Kid: "Mama, why can't I hit my brother?"

Me: "Because it's not nice...and he'll probably hit you back."

Bam. Problem solved. Fight diffused.

Yes, I used to be...

While I once could come up with a sufficient punishment at the drop of a hat, I now find myself stuttering, and tripping over my words to come up with a proper "if...then" statement. A statement that means business.

One that keeps my three year old from ripping open a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry, and one that makes my five year old think twice before he talks back "one more time."

Yeah, my kids know mama's going soft. Oh,they're all over me, testing me left and right.
My "one more time" has now become forty-seven more times. Wanna know why? Because I have no more words, and I need the extra time to come up with something good.

Take this evening at dinner. Not unlike any other night, tonight's meal started with a brawl over a plastic cup. In our home, this cup is referred to as the "special" cup. While it serves it's purpose well as a liquid container, I can't for the life of me figure out why this cup is so "special." But to my children, it is.

In fact it's so special that my kids are willing to risk their meal, their toys, their valentines, their college education and every other good thing they have, just to drink from it. Unbelievable.

Unfortunately, when the fight broke out tonight my brain was unprepared yet again, and the only thing I could come up with was for the culprit to go sit on the red chair.

The red chair.
Pathetic, I know.

Ahhh...the life with four kids. I need some help people.