I have an ongoing, running dilemma in my house.  Which child gets what she wants over the other two?

This situation causes fighting, whining, frustration, and drama every single day.  I have no clue what to do about it.

During TV time, they each want to watch something different.  Well, I am not a believer in having 75 televisions on at once, so I tell them that they have to work it out and come up with one together.  They never seem to be able to do that, however, and the whining begins.

“I want Scooby -Dooooooo!”

“I want the Doodleboooops!”

WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH!

Until I am so tired of it, they get sent to their rooms, where the whining might be muffled, but the destroying of the rooms begins.  And the coming out to beg again.  And the tempers flare and then we are in disaster mode.

It is really quite ridiculous!

The same thing happens at meal time.  Katie wants pancakes, Sarah wants mac and cheese, and Megan just wants to eat.  I tell them that I am not a short order cook and they get what I make.  But neither of them seems ok with brussel sprouts and liver for breakfast….  is that mean?

So they fight.  And the scream.  And they go to their rooms.

And the tempers flare.  And it all falls apart.

I need help.  I know I do.  Like of SuperNanny proportions.  But she is busy.  Very busy.

So, I pray.  I beg.  I think – that one hurts.  And I pray some more.

So far, no solutions have dawned on me for dealing with my demanding spawn.  They spend a lot of time in their rooms, which has lost its effect as they have learned to love being in there, and they spend an exorbitant amount of time in time out.  They have been stripped bare of “things” and have lost going places as a result of their inability to deal with not getting their ways.

It is old.  Like my hair style.  And wardrobe.

But I digress.

I guess, in the end, this is the crust of motherhood.  The part we would like to cut off and discard with our maternity clothes.  The fat we would like to skim off the top, knowing it is not healthy for us to have.  The part that keeps us from breeding continuously.

But no one else is going to do it for me.  So, I take a deep breath, say another prayer and dive back in.

And I still have no idea who gets to choose.