The Leatherkids' Tunnels

It was a rough day with the Leatherkids today.  I spent the better half of the day on Cal's case to either stop hitting, kicking, pinching, poking, pushing, squeezing or spitting on his sister or to just listen to me and acknowledge me. The one time the poor kid actually was pleasant and listening to me, I was on his case because he wasn't riding  his bike fast enough and was being too safe as I tried to get a decent 3-mile run in with the kids.  (We made it two blocks before I changed my mind about running pushing Ella in the BOB while Cal rode his bike alongside me and turned us back toward home.)

And I'm sure Ella was her normal bossy and entitled self in between it all.  I don't remember exactly -- the days are all starting to blend together.

As I sat watching Cal take his last couple of bites of his pizza bread (our dinner, made by the kids) tonight, I realized I was just mentally exhausted due to my dealings with the Leatherkids.  Instead of reminding him once again to chew with his mouth closed, I decided to admit something to him... loudly... above the sounds of him chewing with his mouth open.

"Being a Mommy his SO HARD, Cal," I told him.

"Why?" he asked.

Hmm... how do I put this softly?  "Cal, I adore you and Ella, but you guys drive me bonkers.  What's the secret to getting through to you?" I asked him.

Cal's response to my question was classic... and very mature... and funny... and downright troubling.  With a devious smirk on his face he answered, "Only we know."

We could have left it at that, but my laughter just added fuel to his fire.  He proceeded to tell me that there's a tunnel inside him that he also put in Ella that only they can go into.  As soon as they're inside this tunnel, the doors close so Dan and I can't get in.  He even stood up and explained that the opening to the tunnel was as wide as from the bathroom door to the kitchen (for sure - a tunnel that big would not be inside you, Cal).

I stuck with him as he described this secret tunnel for a few minutes.  When he finally took a breath, I dug for some information that might actually be helpful to me, "So, when do you go into the tunnel, Cal?"

"During bad times," he said.

Just then Dan and Ella came back inside (they had been outside talking with the neighbors this whole time), so that's as far as I got.  I had hoped to hear something like, "when you yell at me" or "when you tell me no" or something constructive like that.

Eventually, we made our way upstairs where the Leatherkids ran from room to room ignoring my requests (demands?) that they get their jammies and undies and head to our bathroom to take a shower.  I eventually took their pre-bed book time away from them and took Ella's trip to the beach tomorrow away from her.  I think they both may be in their tunnels now, fast asleep, Cal physically in his bed and Ella on the landing of our stairs.