Is It Too Much To Ask?

For a little obedience from my spawn? I know I'm not the most uber-fabulous mother to grace the land of mommyhood. I know that. But, come on!! Is a little bit of obedience just too much to ask of my kids?

Apparently, it is. Because for the millionth day in the last few weeks I found myself thinking I just couldn't take it anymore. I began thinking about how I would put my resume together and start looking for a job. Any job. Yes, I will wipe shit off of the inside of a toilet bowl in a hotel bathroom to get out of this gig. Not because I enjoy wiping shit off of other people's toilet bowls, or because I'm even seriously dying to get back to work. I wanted a job so that the girls could spend 8 hours being disobedient to someone else during the day.

Where is this all coming from, you probably wonder.
Let's start with this, although it's not so much obedience related as just plain annoying (and a fantastic way to start the day):

At approximately 0900 this morning, S. woke up and came out of her room. She entered my office and stood by my chair. I looked at her, said good morning and then she started crying. As if that weren't dramatic enough, she then threw her 30+ lb body at the arm of my chair. Obviously, because gravity works, she fell to the ground in a crying heap. Where she stayed. For almost five minutes. Crying.

I asked her what was wrong, and was graced with more tears and screaming in response. WTF?! She obviously is not ready or willing to tell me what's wrong so I can help fix it. S. is way too content crying to be bothered with anything resembling problem solving. So I ignored her and went back to whatever mundane shit I was doing on the computer. I asked her again, what's wrong. Again, more crying. This went on for almost 15 minutes. 15 minutes! Twice she picked herself up off the floor and took herself to her room, where she cried a little bit more before coming out and crying on the way to and inside of another room. It was almost like she was blessing the house. You know, just going room to room shaking the priestly rattle thing and showering holy water on everything. Except she didn't have a priestly rattle thing. And there was nothing holy about her outburst.

After her second self-imposed exile, she finally stopped. I still have no idea what the hell was wrong with her. I strongly believe that she didn't either. Because sometimes, S. just does that- she'll wake up, walk out of her room and start crying. And then cry for minutes until either we put her back in bed, or she puts herself back into bed, cries for a bit more and then goes right back to sleep. I'm not kidding. It's like she's a sleepwalker whose natural response is to cry as she walks about in her coma-like state. She's incredibly inconsolable in those moments, which is how we can tell the difference between an unhappy awakening, or an unhappy sleep walking episode. Either way it sucks.

So there's that.

The obedience thing can best be illustrated with the following exchanges:

Conversation #1:

(as we're picking out donuts at Safeway)

Me: "A., stop leaning into the cart. You'll get hurt."

A.: "I'm trying to get my wind blower."

Me: "I don't care. If you need something in the cart, just ask me."

A.: "okay."

(seconds later she's reaching into the cart again)

Me: "Didn't I just tell you not to do that?"

A.: "But I wanted my wind blower."

Me: "well, you know what? Now you don't get it because you don't know how to pay attention to anything I say."

A.: "But I'm going to be a good girl."

Me: "sorry, too late."

And now, as I write this, I realize that she went into my purse to get the noise blower out, because she "wanted it."

Uh huh.

And how about this:

Conversation #2:
(lunchtime)

S.: "I want a donut."

Me: "did you finish your eggroll?"

S.: "no."

Me: "finish your eggroll and you can have a donut."

S.: "But I want a donut."

Me: "go eat your eggroll."

Minutes later, wailing is heard from the dining room.

A.: "S. took a bite of my donut!!"

Me to S.: "don't eat her donut. You didn't eat your lunch so you don't get a donut."

Me to A.: "You don't have to cry about it. Just eat your donut."

Even a few more minutes later, S. reappears before me with a fortune cookie in her hand:

S.: "I want that."

Me: "did you eat your eggroll?"

S.: "no."

Me: "eat your eggroll."

S.: "no. I want cookie."

At which point I confiscate the fortune cookie and she departs.

A few more minutes after that (déjà vu, anyone?):

S.: "I want donut."

Me: see above responses

S.: "How 'bout that?" (points to previously confiscated fortune cookie now laying next to the monitor)

Me: "no"

S.: "How 'bout… waffle?"

Me: "no"

S.: "How 'bout-"

Me- (completely exasperated at this point with the whole exchange): "eat your eggroll."

S.: "Okay."

And still later:

S.: "can I have donut, please?"

Me: "did you finish your eggroll?"

S.: (pause) "yes"

Mmm hmmm. We'll see.

I looked. Judging by the fly that was sitting on the top of the crispy brown rectangle with veggies falling out, she didn't finish it.

Fabricator!

I could go on, but I think you get the gist.

And I get this. Every. Single. Day.

Again, WTF?!!!

I understand completely that as preschoolers they are testing their limits. I get that. But at what point do they stop testing these limits and just say, "okay mom. You don't want me to do that so I won't" instead of something along the lines of "why?", "why not" or outright unspoken defiance? When? When they're 5? 15? 55?!!!
Oh God.

Pieces of my soul dissipate with each "why not" I get asked. Which means that pretty soon there will be nothing left of me. I'll just be a hollow shell of a person with no soul or spirit to speak of.

Those of you who know and love me, get your fill now. Because soon I may become a void entity until I completely disappear and become nothing but a memory.