Sir, Yes Sir

It has taken birthing four children to make me realize that I could never be in the military. Not that I ever considered it as a career, but I know without a shadow of a doubt, I would have failed before boot camp was over.

How does the birth of four children bring me to this conclusion? It is the fact that I not only gave birth to four children, but to four drill sergeant children. They have always been very demanding with their needs, but in the last few weeks, they've really stepped it up a notch.

They've so perfected the ability to bark orders at me, there are times I feel obliged to stand straighter with my hand firmly placed at my forehead. My hands are safer at my head, as I would prefer to wrap them around little necks cover mouths, choking hushing out the orders!

By 7:30 am yesterday morning, I was already at my wits end. My orders by that time included, but were not limited to, doing hair, helping with shoes, delivering four different cereals to the breakfast table, delivering four sippies of milk to the breakfast table, finding an acceptable cartoon for eating entertainment, making three lunches for school per each sergeants request, and the list goes on.

I'm aware that these are my duties as a mother and I am perfectly fine with that. The problem lies in the way my sergeants ask for things. I might even be able to forgive the way they ask for things as well, but then it's the repetitions that really drive me crazy. If their actions are any indication of what they are thinking, my four kids are under the impression that I am hard of hearing. It's the only logical explanation for why they make the same request 25+ times in less than 3 minutes.

Like a broken record, Annie must have asked me for help with putting on her shoes 15 times within 3 minutes yesterday morning. Her request was perfectly acceptable, however, her timing was all wrong. I was in the middle of making those previously mentioned three lunches and pouring those previously mentioned four sippies of milk when she was barking her orders.

At her first request, I was like an inactive volcano, calmly reminding her that I would help her after I had completed my task at hand.

Even at her second request, I was pretty inactive. Bubbling a bit more than at first, but still calm.

By request 15 I was erupting. Lava poured from me and I wanted to ignite the whole house, shoes included! I'm so thankful that no one was in my line of fire, because if they were, they would have had white tennis shoe for breakfast instead of cereal! Reliving my immaturity is quite comical now, but at 7:30 am yesterday morning, there wasn't anything funny about it!

Because I'd rather be in control than have orders barked at me, I'm going to find and execute a solution to this problem.

My kids would probably suggest hearing aides, which is not a bad idea at all. I'd remove the batteries, place them in my ears, and I'd have instant ear plugs to block out my orders.