There is not enough room there for you

With two kids under 6 and two cats under 2 at our house, we repeat several phrases over and over again these days. Here is a partial list, and if Dean reads it, he probably won't feel so far away from us on his current business trip. In fact, he may want to extend it a couple of days.

I love you, Daddy/Mom/Sweetie. 'Nuff said.

There is not enough room there for you. Typically directed at Smoky, the plumper of the two cats, who will screw himself down into a tight wheezing ball between my shoulder and my ear and the headboard no matter now much acreage is free on the bed. Smoky also gets into boxes, drawers, laundry baskets, toy bins, and kitchen cabinets.

Use your "I" message. I started hearing that in Kindergarten last year, and adopted it for home use with both boys. It took me a while to figure out that the counselor wasn't saying "eye message", so for a few weeks last September I pictured all the little kids waggling their eyebrows and looking meaningly at each other. But by saying "I don't like it when..." or "I wanted you to..." or "I wish that...", the kids realize that they, as much as the 'other', can be responsible for how an interaction goes.

Don't bite my leg. Also cat-focused, this time at Midnight who, in his eagerness to get outside in the morning, does a kind of arch-rub-meow-bite maneuver against which Dean (usually in his bathrobe holding a pot of boiling water) is powerless to defend himself. Once I said it to the cat within Adrian's hearing, and Adrian absently replied, "I won't, Mom." Midnight also chews the aglets off my sneaker laces every week or two. We think both cats -- rescue animals chosen on Nathan's third birthday -- were weaned too early.

Please put your shoes on. "Your shoes. They're right there. Put them on your feet, please. Put. Your. Shoes. ON. Eitherputthemonorpickthemup and go to the car RIGHT NOW, [expletive deleted]." We shift between natural and logical consequences as the situation warrants. A logical consequence of not putting on your shoes might be, say, not getting to use the iPhone in the car. A natural consequence would be having cold, wet, uncomfortable feet, and probably not being allowed into school. Which would then involve me having to deliver shoes anyway, plus a bunch of extra unhappiness on all fronts. So we usually take the logical route in this case.

(There is a great deal to say about logical vs. natural consequences, mostly about how the natural consequences are the ones I prefer but that as a responsible parent, you can't just let the child find out that when you put a metal skewer into an electrical outlet, you get shocked and possibly burn down the house whose wiring was questionable to begin with. That's a good subject for a future post. Plus we can talk about how, although I am a very loving parent, I'm totally not on board with 'playful parenting' and don't think every single transition in our lives should be made into a fun game.)

I am never going to be your friend! Usually boy-to-boy, sometimes boy-to-parent. Used to bug me, but it blows over so quickly that I've learned to say, "I hear that you're upset/angry/frustrated/disappointed about this. What would you like to do, talk about it together or spend some quiet time?" Although when coupled with hitting or throwing something, it's usually "I hear that you're having strong feelings, but we do not hit/throw things. You need to have some quiet time now," and then comes the carrying and the waily waily waily. I am not sure how much the boys will weigh in their mid-teens, but I am training hard so I will still be able to carry them to their bedroom as the situation requires.

Can I do something on your i-F-O-N? Adrian is learning to S-P-L, and spells things out for us all the T-I-M. We haven't hitherto counted iPhone time against the kids' overall screen time, and although I do try to engage them in conversation and thinking games in the car every day, sometimes it's more peaceful when they're occupied.

Here, Mom! A warning to anyone who might ride in a car with our children some day: think twice before you blindly reach behind you to take whatever object or substance may accompany this phrase. You may find yourself with a piece of chewed gum, a handful of wet cracker, or worse.

I love you, Sweetie! Come home soon.