I hate the phrase “pick your battles”. It is a truly annoying three-word sentence. The reason I hate that phrase is because I am SO LOUSY at picking my battles with the kids. And hence I have large amounts of gray hair that I cannot attribute to my husband. And that infuriates me. Because really, I’ve been with him for 17 years, so all those grays really are his doing.
Ugh, I digress, again. The reason I am so lousy at picking my battles is that I am a Type AAAA personality, so of course what I say, should go. HA. HA. HA. If I say “Drew, lunch is bologna and cheese” then of course that is what lunch should be. Right? No. Not. So. Much. What inevitably happens is Drew (sorry buddy, but you’re my target today) will hoot and holler about wanting yogurt for lunch and I will hoot and holler right back about me being the boss, and lunch is what I give him. Please tell me why I fight with a 3 year old about lunch (or some other silly sundry). I sound completely insane (now, no comments please). So if I KNOW that I sound insane and I KNOW that fighting with my kids over silly little sundries is dumb, then why don’t I stop? That is my battle. My “pick your battles” battle. (I sound like Dr. Seuss). I don’t know where to draw the line. If I give in every day with the bologna vs. yogurt argument, then do I give in with 3 hours of tv vs. 1 hour of tv? Do you see my problem?
Of course, not every battle is one that should even require a discussion. NO, they will NOT run with scissor, knives or other sharp instruments. NO, they will NOT hit/kick/knock over their baby sisters/me/their father. NO, they will NOT go out of my sight in our woods. Too bad I’m the only one that believes those rules are not arguable. In my pretty mind I make the rules and everyone follows them.
So, if you have a solution to my “pick your battles” battle, drop me a comment! I’m all ears.