It happens almost every day and almost every week. About the 18,000th sentence beginning with or consisting entirely of “Mom?”, something inside just snaps.
I know I’m not the only one being smothered with an endless chorus of requests, information, statements, status checks, questions, and, let’s be honest, stalling while a child thinks of something they wanted to say.
It doesn’t matter if there are 28 other adults in the room capable of getting that glass of water, or if Daddy is already holding the cup—seriously, I think they think every question/sentence has to begin with “Mom.” Like, it’s not grammatically complete without “Mom” in it.
(Hint: it doesn’t, and it is.)
As I’ve written this and made the lovely illustrative graphic, without exaggerating, I can safely say my kids have called my name 10 times, and asked for one nonspecific thing. My favorite was when Rebecca was sitting next to me and said “Mom . . . But, Mom. . . . But, Mom . . . But, Mom—I bettay sit atta table.”
I know they’re not purposefully trying to wear me out—it’s just a happy coincidence that I end each day three “Mom?”s away from a psychotic break.
Maybe I should stop encouraging Rachel to learn to say “Mama.”
What do your kids do over and over and over and over ad nauseam, ad infinitum, ad delirium, ad mortem?
One reply on “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. (psychological warfare of attrition)”
The whining. Especially the whine that starts, “Mo-ooooom!…” I don’t understand it. I was always told that if you never gave in to the whining it would eventually stop. I don’t give in. I even tell my kids, “Sorry, you don’t get that because you whined for it.” So why are they still trying to drive me to the funny farm with all this whining?!?!?!?!