Saturday night I sent Chase to bed early for breathing.  Yes you read correctly and no, the Bar Mitzvah stress has not rendered me completely horrid.  Does this scenario sound familiar to you?

We are driving home in the car from my Mom’s birthday party (HB, Mom!) when the brothers start to bicker.  I tell them to stop bickering which they ignore.  So I move down the list of discipline and tell them not to talk to each other, which they obey.  Kinda.  They proceed to insult each other  by “talking to no one in particular”.  I then call “NO TALKING WHATSOEVER!!!”  At this point Noah gives up but Chase needs to find a way to annoy his brother without talking, so he begins to take big deep, obscene phone call breaths.  I turn on him.



Cut that out!


YOU. KNOW. WHAT.  Stop with the breathing.

A few seconds pass and he takes a few more deep breaths complete with full Pilates exhales for good measure.  Because after all, his Mom can’t punish him for breathing, right?



The look of fear and realization that he has gone too far settles in his eyes and he scrambles to put his demon horses back in the barn.

I’m sorry, Mom.  MOM?  I’m sorry.  MOOOOOOOOM, I’m really sorry.  Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.  Okay?  OKAY?  Do I still have to go to bed when we get home?  It’s only 8:45.


“YOU have ruined my entire night!  You have ruined my life!!!!!”

Really?  A first!  I have been ruining Noah’s life on a weekly basis for over a year now but I had yet to penetrate the Chase’s Teflon emotional boundaries.  Milestones from his young life flashed before my eyes – his first solid food, his first word, his first steps, his first poop on the potty and now, at long last…. this.  His very first ruined life.  My eyes welled with proud tears.

Cherish every moment MoB readers.  They grow up so darn fast.

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