So, very seldomly do Matt and I have to discuss our parenting styles. In fact, our typical conversations as it relates to parenting basically has us patting each other on the back about how great of parents we are and how everyone else could really take a hint or two from our play book. But, once in a great while, such topics do come up. Recently, we have been talking about (okay, I have been talking about) how Matt can maybeee be a wee bit harsh on the kids. The whole time, I'm sure he has been thinking that maybeee I'm a wee bit soft on those same precious angels. A little backstory:
Ben has (since his second day of kindergarten a.k.a. "I'm not getting on that freaking bus" day) a little bit of anxiety when it comes to a lot of things - including going to school, having sleepovers, going to a tee-ball game - basically just about anything. This anxiety comes in the form of a "tummy ache" often accompanied by crying and screaming so convincing that the first time he did it I was certain he had appendicitis. By now, I'm used to his tricks. However, Tuesday of this week, Maddie had just puked all over the living room (awesome) and Ben was scheduled to be leaving for his first flag football practice. Of course, there is some crying about how his tummy hurts. By no means were we forcing him to go this practice (I'm not that cruel) - we had asked him several times if he felt good enough to go and he wanted to go - although he would start to tear up and whimper.
So, he's going out the door, a little teary eyed, when Matt sort of grumbles about how he needs to grow up and get over it. I tell him, he does not need to grow up, he is six and that he better not be mean to my precious little boy. I get the obligatory eye roll as I'm sure Matt is thinking in his head, oh good God this woman is going to be feeding me the same line when we are dropping him off at his dorm room as they get loaded up to go (in Matt's newest baby - his Suburban).
A few minutes later they are back and Ben is announcing that he just puked. "Where is it exactly that you puked Ben, please, pretell". "In Dad's car," he replies.
Sweet justice, I was thinking. He deserved that for being mean to my baby and not believing him when he said he was sick! Matt came in and in much better spirits than I would have been, proceeded to clean out his car and I spent a few glorious days reveling in how, although Matt and I are a super team, this what a true picture of how I really know my $hit.
Then comes Friday. Matt leaves for Chicago for a long-awaited, well-deserved trip with friends to Chicago for a Cubs game and of course, the start of the Hawkeye football season. And I wake up with four kids to myself and a heinous stomach flu. Guess I should have seen that coming - I deserved it.
