Fight Club

Eitan and Madeleine burn off some chocolate cake by fighting. Me, Sonnet, Catherine and Jenn sit in the conservatory carrying on a conversation as though nothing out of the ordinary. The kids kick and head punch each other interrupted by an occasional dash into the house which nets my ire. Do not doubt that sugar is a drug and whenever I reward the little monsters with seconds or a large helping, it ends up in tears. As it does tonight when the children ordered to bed. Recently, Eitan and Madeleine have shared a bedroom on their volition but, now, the love-in over. Eitan refuses to be together and huffs off with pillow and blanket to sleep in the bathtub (Madeleine follows noting she, too, wants to sleep here). When the tub proves wet, the boy moves into our bedroom until Sonnet yells at him "Get in your bedroom and go to bed!" (Madeleine: "sheesh, mom, you don't have to scream."). I command them to face opposite directions or else. This morning, over cereal, Eitan and I replay the evening and decide that it is tough being a kid sometimes.