Do you happen to have melodramatic or as I like to say “passionate” children in your home?  In the medical world, these creative kids are predominately using their right-brain more than the analytical or left-side of the brain.

At our house we are a 50-50 brain split.  My husband, the engineer has his mini-version of himself (our cute – but girly daughter) and this writer/nurse/ex-theatre gal has a “mini-me.” (Prayers are welcomed!)

It works out great when there are family arguments as long as you prefer tie breakers to be implemented with every household vote.  Coin tosses or Paper, Rock, Scissors typically resolve most dilemmas effectively.

However, some days the female gene takes over and wins by a landslide or “meltdown” as it were…

It was a beautiful day with the normal balance of whining and loving sweet moments heard from children in our cul-de-sac.  We had changed activities only 43 times and it was only 1:20pm, so basically a smooth sailing day!

When out of the blue, some imaginary figure came swirling into the kitchen swiped a yogurt out of the refrigerator and without any warning or cleaning products, this unknown and unclaimed being decided to take that strawberry yogurt and squirt it on the hardwood floors.  An odd practice for an imaginary guest of our home – but who am I to judge?

Screaming echoed from the other room, followed by soft cries that crescendo into panicked wails.

“Mom, come quick! Yogurt… (sob, sob) …is…” the child’s voice trails off into hysterical tears.

I slide around the corner to find a small yogurt container which has been jimmied open by immature fingers and a small portion of the contents has dripped onto the floor. And for some reason a tablespoon of the mixture is rubbed into a pink mitten.  (A summer mitten I’m sure!)  And why they had a mitten out in the summer is not to be questioned in this story.  They are my children and that’s just how they roll.  Irrelevant.

Normally my girls would NOT be crying relentlessly about spilled yogurt; or even notice the mess, let alone clean it up for that matter.  But drama had ensued in the fullest degree.  “Why now” was what had to be identified?

After some deep breathing exercises to calm them down and various yoga poses, I was able to get them breathing in a natural pattern and focused enough to start the interrogation.

“So you wanted some yogurt for a snack?  Good choice!” I smiled.

(They both nodded affirmatively)

 

Trying to praise their efforts, I said, “Those lids are really difficult to open sometimes, huh?”

(Repeated head nods)

“I hate it when yogurt spills on the floor, don’t you?” I asked.

“WAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” the youngest child started crying uncontrollably again.

“Please don’t make us get rid of our favorite pink mittens.  I don’t want to give them to kids who don’t have mittens!” wailed the older child.

Note to self…may have been donating too many clothes to good will.  Need to start teaching children how to do laundry.

© 2012, Stacey Hatton.  All rights reserved.