I am The Punisher

As you may have figured, I've been busy trying to find my zen place the last couple days.

My kids were grounded for a whole hour. I didn't even tell them, but I said I swear to God in my head at least a dozen times yesterday, vowing to punish them to within an inch of their lives for... well, everything they've ever done.

I was so stressed out that I fell asleep last night at 6:30AM this morning.

Which is kind of funny since I can't say I've been dreading sleep. In fact, I've been having the most obscene sex dreams about ex-boyfriends whom I hardly even dated (and certainly never slept with, if that's what you're thinking). I'm guessing it has something to do with me watching the trainwreck of The Bachelorette and one of the guys looks like him.

When I told Mike, he said: I've been having weird dreams, too. Last night I dreamed that I dropped Kermit the Frog off at some hot young chick's house, and it was a Chris Hansen sting operation. He even brought the Mike's Hard Lemonades.

I think I laughed for a solid five minutes.

So there were some bright spots this week.

Like finding three apples between my two apple trees.

And getting three more sections of fence stained. Huzzah! I think that fulfills my quota for the year.

Yes, it is DARK in these pictures. I stained until the very last possible moment. Until the mosquitoes and spiders had me so creeped out I couldn't take it anymore.

I was determined to get something accomplished. I actually spoke these words aloud to my children: Do not talk to me until I talk to you. Unless you're bleeding. Then you can talk to me. Otherwise, I want 10 MINUTES without interruption.

Forget insects, the real pests are offspring.

They played on the swingset and I heard Emma shout out: I see a shooting star! What should I wish for?

To which I responded: How 'bout a nanny.

Halfway through staining, the girls decided they were going to fly a kite. Only they didn't know how to put it together. And they made sure to "read" the instructions right next to me, talking about how much they love flying kites. Guilt trip, anyone? I guess the Catholic runs deep.

I listened to two minutes of it until I caved in. We had fun for a while.... until Emma decided to stomp on the kite as it swooped low, and Kristin let go of the string to watch it take off over the garage and get caught permanently on the roof. Because no good deed goes unpunished.

It wouldn't have been a big deal, but I pushed through the 100-115° heat index all day, finishing the driveway edging and staining, and the girls were all I'm thirsty and I'm hungry. Every. two. minutes.

And I don't think they're growing taller, and they're NOT growing fatter, so I don't know why they're hungry all the time. Yesterday morning, I made them egg/bacon/cheese sandwiches and decided to fry up the rest of the package of bacon. An entire PACKAGE.

I figured Mike would want some for sandwiches or snacking. No more than 10 minutes later, I heard giggling and the words: bacon napkin. By the time I made it back to the kitchen, it was too late. The girls had run off with the entire plate of bacon and engorged themselves on it.

(I gave my first spankings in months, and I definitely think it was worth it. No one gets more than their share of bacon in this house. NO ONE.)

It was quite gratifying later that day to watch Mike hose down the children with cold water.

Yes, I realize they were having fun, but I can always pretend their screams weren't of delight but of pure terror.

Bacon-stealing baby-squealing terror.

What makes this week EXTRA special is that Mike told the girls NO MORE MOVIES until their room is clean. Newsflash to Mike: Their room has NEVER been cleaned solely by them. I've been cleaning it for the last 6 years. I've just STOPPED cleaning it since school ended. Because I have no will power left.

So this is really a punishment for ME.

I'm playing a new game with the girls to try to derail this out-of-control mess in their room. I call it: Five Minutes and then Nose to the Wall.
I'm betting you can guess the rules.

I tell them which part of their room to clean, and five minutes later when they haven't done a single thing, I have them step out into the hallway and put their hands and noses to the wall for two minutes.

Then I give them another "opportunity" to clean. It usually gets finished the second go-around, and my blood pressure doesn't feel quite as high.

Yesterday, their first task was to empty their room of toys into garbage bags.

POW. The Punisher strikes again.

Is there any question why they keep asking to move in with my parents? The people who give my children grape pop and popcorn after every meal?

And yes, I've already asked and my parents said no.