Ok, so this isn't going to be the new theme of my blog, but it was too funny to pass up.
So we come out of our room to find Ulysses throwing punches at his sister. We try to send him to the corner but he refuses and when I try to move him there he decides he'd rather throw punches at me. Not that he packs that much punch at 7 years old but still I'd rather not sit there and take it so I tell him he can sit in the corner for 3 minutes or I can sit on him for 3 minutes. So I've got him there pinned to the ground, and he tells me that if I don't let him go he's going to throw up. Considering he's been sick recently I'm willing to believe him. I tell him to go to the toilet to throw up there and let him go. Instead of going to the toilet, he dashes off to the living room to reposses his blanket, which was the center of the original argument. I tell him don't go to the living room to throw up go to the bathroom. I really don't feel like cleaning it out of the carpet again. He refuses, saying that he only needed to throw up because I was squishing him before. I had been trying to only rest enough weight on him to let him know he wasn't going anywhere, but oh well. Knowing that there's little chance that he's gone from fully nauseated to feeling fine in a few seconds, I pick him up from the carpet and wrestle him over to the bathroom. I can't get the toilet open quickly so I just hold him over the tub where he proceeds to deposit his dinner. Victory! the barf went somewhere I can just wipe it up instead of trying to get it out of the carpet.
So after that when I'm cleaning it up I notice a lot of it really wasn't that chewed up and I tell him to chew his food more. BJ tells me now is not the time to lecture him on his chewing. Apparently by then he had enough energy to tell me emphatically that he was doing the best he could and that I shouldn't criticize his lack of chewing.
What an interesting day that was :)
1 month ago