Stressful Meal Times with Children

Does anybody else think that meal times with children are the most stressful times of the day. It’s like they take turns to antagonise me and put my blood pressure through the roof. I mean please who are these demon children.
Today for example, I gave the boys 2/3 warnings that they would have to come in soon for dinner and that they wouldn’t be going back out afterwards. They were out late last night and need to catch up on their sleep. When dinner was finally on the table I called them in. Only to be met with tears, wailing 😭, and begging. I’m tired, exhausted actually. I can barely use my body after the intense workout yesterday morning, and now the little people are trying to kill me with noise and ungratefulness. 
I calmly tried to tell them again for the galzillionth time that dinner was on the table and they had to come in. The oldest said he had to go get his bike and the tiniest one just screamed and asked what was for dinner. Now you would think that I just sprung it on him that we were having bolangaise, that we hadn’t previously had two discussions about what was for dinner today. Oh no! The bad mammy that I am made the worst dinner in the world. At this stage now, I was standing at the doorway. Practically on the street, he was crying like a banshee and I could feel steam pouring out my ears. Up to bed with you, I said and no dinner until you can be quite.
I thank my lucky stars everyday that my two boys are intelligent and have some cop on. But in that moment of despair, when they think their lives are about to end because something has happened that they don’t like, there is no talking sense into them. Any reasonable person would just be quite so they could ear their dinner. But oh no! This little monkey, stomped up the stairs, into his room, bellowing from the top of his lungs that he was starving and just wanted to eat his dinner. Is he s**ting me. I just said he had to stop crying. He’s still whinging. Ten more minutes pass. If any of the neighbours could hear him I’m sure they would think I was starving the poor child.
Then there was silence and I could hear little toes coming down the stairs. The penny dropped and he wiped his eyes and his tear stained cheeks, a little sniffle and he was creeping up behind me. He sat down on his chair, I thought to myself “Victory”, he’s going to eat his dinner now. No chance!! This dinner is disgusting, I want cheese on it like in Grainne’s house. Can I have noodles instead. Why don’t you cook me chicken nuggets and chips anymore? Will you cook me noodles when I’m finished? Where’s my broggie? Then Nathan turns around to him and says “All Mammy and I have to say to you is CONOR MCGREGOR!!” 
“Ahhhhhhhh! Stop being mean to me, you too are being so mean!!!! Ahhhhh!” Steam is now coming out my ears, noise, eyes and mouth. Why child, why?? 
Thankfully he ate some of his dinner and he wasn’t murdered or sold. He is now safely tucked in bed after loads of hugs and kisses getting ready to fight another day. The joys of children 👶 but I wouldn’t have it any other way (well maybe just at meal times)………………….
To be continued 

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