If we’re friends on Facebook, then you might have seen my mid-afternoon miserable update. If we’re not friends on Facebook, then here you go:
I really don’t understand it. When kids have been at school all day (or in Jack’s case, half a day), you’d think they couldn’t wait to get home to their toys. You’d think they’d be relieved to come home to a place of refuge. You’d think they couldn’t wait to play outside, watch a show or two, and enjoy the last few hours of the day.
But no. It’s not relaxing. It’s not enjoyable. It’s not at all how I foolishly imagine it’ll be every single day. For some reason, I think the “next day” will be better, and when it’s not, I’m genuinely and frustratingly surprised.
In my defense, I’ve tried everything. Thinking their misbehavior is the result of mad, growing-boy hunger, I’ve given protein-heavy snacks upon getting home. I’ve moved bath time from after dinner to right after school because I thought perhaps it would help relax them (Jeremy, specifically) and that might improve behavior. (Plus, boys are filthy after school.)
I’ve allowed them to play together, but one or both usually end up in tears. I’ve put them in separate room time, but both argue through the door cracks that they’re bored, lonely and now promise to play nicely with one another. I’ve let them play outside when the weather was favorable, but again, one or both end up in tears with lots and LOTS of tattling.
We’ve done calm activities, like coloring and playing Memory, followed by energized activities, like cranking up the music to dance. I’ve also gone through their toys and given away a third of them (this was after weeks of hearing, “I’m bored. I don’t know what to do.” They’ve since learned not to say that to me.)
I’ve allowed TV, and then I’ve disallowed TV when the two couldn’t sit next to each other without nit-picking. They’ve run circles around the living room and then wound up in separate corners for painful amounts of time.
Honestly, I’m at a loss. Any of these activities would be fine if they were able to carry them out without arguing with me, fighting with each other, and bringing the house mood down with their poor attitudes. This cycle of mischief carries on until bedtime when, thankfully, they enjoy our nightly book routine and lay calmly in bed while I read aloud.
When Lisa called them “arsenic hours” (because they kill you slowly), she really nailed it. There have been days, albeit few, when I’ve waived the white flag from underneath my bed sheets.
If any of you seasoned mothers have the secret to keeping some sort of order during the late afternoon hours, I’m ready to hear it.