OK, ohmyGod: they’ve started an Occupy Movement in Fiona’s room.
In yesterday’s post I
talked bragged about how I posted some new house rules for my children on the stairway where they can seem ‘em every morning when they come downstairs. I talked about how, three days in, things at our house were finally running smoothly. In the interest of transparency here on the blog, I feel I need to tell you that this morning, things have taken a turn for the worse.
Fiona has asked/pestered/attempted to bribe/cajoled/and tried to negotiate getting me (“Old Softy”) to cave in and let her use the computer (even though she has only done her piano practice, and not her violin, and she says she’s done some reading but all she did was pick up a Spider Man comic book and pose with it for several minutes while begging for the computer). She has done this 40 times and it’s only 9 A.M. Worse, the girls have staged what they are calling an “Occupy Fiona’s Room” movement – they are holed up in her bedroom, writing things down.
(Update, a little while later.)
Oh my God, they have written down their demands. They are organizing. I found this note on the stairs, below my New House Rules poster:
They are growing in stealth and power. This can’t be good.
This must be quashed!
They want me to amend the House Rules so that they can use the computer after doing two things, not three, “so they don’t get bored”: piano and violin or piano and reading, or violin and reading etc.
I went into Fiona’s room and they were sitting near the swing chair like two subversives, in a somewhat sarcastic and – yes – revolutionary manner, surrounded by pens and paper – drafts of things. They had a contract with places for signatures!
Me: “I can be flexible if you can be reasonable. You want me to amend the rules?”
Fi: “Don’t use big words, Mommy.”
Me: “Amend means to change. You want me to capitulate?”
Fi: “Big words. Sign.”
I feel like I’ve been trapped in an elevator all morning with a used car salesman. My brain is starting to hurt and I can feel myself starting to get all marshmallowey, to capitulate.
You know what I did?
I capitulated. I signed the amended contract.
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