Simple Demands

Lately it seems as though any time I am occupied with a task that takes any sort of concentration or the use of more than one hand, my children decide they need something from me RIGHT then and there.  To them it's a simple demand, but to me it's a rather huge (and rather unnecessary) inconvenience.

The first and most obvious example of this is when I nurse Tess. Without exception, 98.45% of the time I am in the middle of nursing her some child comes into the room and demands something.  You'd expect this from Cole, but he has quickly discovered that if he wants anything more than some kind words and a pat on the head, he's not gonna get it.  Nope, I'm talking about my two older, supposedly more reasonable boys.

Just the other day I had the following conversation with Spencer while I nursed Tess:

Spencer: Mommy!  Where are my shoes?
Me: I don't know.  Where did you leave them?
Spencer: I don't know!!
(Side note: it should be mentioned that I have very little patience for children losing things that have very specific places to which they belong.  Despite all of my lessons, preachings, threatenings, and rantings and ravings, shoes still rarely end up where they belong.)
Me: Well, what would you like me to do about it?
Spencer: Help me look for them!  I want to play outside!
Me: Spencer, does it look like I can look for them right now?
Spencer: *silence because he knows the answer but doesn't like it*
Me: Have you even looked for them yet?
Spencer: *silence because he knows the answer and knows I won't like it*
Me: Go look for your shoes, Spencer.
Spencer: NO!  I can't find them!  Auuuugggghhh!

Another good example is when we are in the car.  Inevitably, at the busiest intersection or in heaviest traffic some child will demand that I help them/look at them/stop another child from doing something.  It's as if they truly expect me to stop in the middle of the road, get out of the car, open the side door, climb into the back, and do whatever it is that they want me to do.

I have even asked them, point blank, if this is what they want.  Spencer and Josh are both old enough to understand that this really isn't an option, but I'm pretty sure they would rather die than admit it.  Josh had a full-blown melt-down in the car the other day because he couldn't open his snack and I couldn't reach back to do it for him.  (He was in the very back.)

A final example is while I am in the shower.  Remember this blast from the past?  Yeah, only now it's not just about juice.  Just the other day I had this conversation with Josh while I was in the shower:

Josh: Mommy!
Me: *ignoring him and hoping he will go away*
Josh: MOMMY!  MOMMY WHERE ARE YOU?!?
Me: *still ignoring him, because sheesh, the shower is on, I'm in it, and he's standing in the bathroom*
Josh: MOMMMMMMYYYYYYY?!?!!?
Me: For the love of ... what?!  What do you need right this instant that is so important!?!
Josh: Cole hit me.
Me: I'm sorry Cole hit you.  What do you want me to do about it?!
Josh: *silence*
Me: Why did Cole hit you?
Josh: Well, he was playing with the train but I wanted it and so I had it and then-
Me: -wait.  You stole the train from Cole.
Josh: I wanted it.
Me: And then he hit you.
Josh: Yes.
Me: And you want me to get out of the shower right now and put Cole in timeout because you stole his train and he hit you.
Josh: Yes.
Me: Get out of here.
Josh: But-
Me: NOW.

I'll give Josh this - he does recognize the tone of voice that clearly says "You'd better listen to me now if you want to live to see another birthday".  However, he clearly does not recognize the words that come out of my mouth when I say something along the lines of "I'm going to go take a shower.  Don't bug me unless someone is bleeding profusely."

And now, even though I am in the middle of blogging, and even though I just fed her and changed her and really just want to have some peace and quiet, a certain little girl is fussing to be held and given my full attention.  Well, at least I'm not in the middle of making dinner for four hungry guys.

This time.