Stop Crying..and other useless commands

The other day, I was on the phone with my best friend. It was just before dinner and it was full on chaos in my house. We lovingly refer to this time as "The Witching Hour" because many days between 4:30 and 5:30 pm, all hell breaks loose.

It usually starts with a low key gesture by one child that just happens to rub the other child in the wrong way. From there, it escalates to a verbal tango with familiar nuggets like:

"Give it back!"

"It's mine."

"No it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No!"

"Uh huh."

At this point, I will issue my first useless command, "STOP FIGHTING THIS INSTANT!"

Even though this is said through clenched teeth in the most menacing manner possible, it is not effective. However, they do stop for about two seconds to get a quick read on me. Is she hot enough to go to scary parent place or can we push this just a tiny bit farther? In their defense, they haven't quite grasped that the threshold has been significantly lowered since I gave up the cigs.

The fighting resumes and I try to go to my happy place where I was young, thin and living at the beach. Hmmmm...I can almost taste the salt air....and then it happens.

My daughter somehow loses her ability to articulate with words and instead, chooses to communicate with her brother through a series of glass shattering screeches or equally ear piercing grunts. Regardless of which method she employs, I watch my composure disintegrate.

"I.SAID.KNOCK.IT.OFF!" I now sound like Regan from The Exorcist.

This is the second useless command because although my daughter ceases immediately, she experiences some sort of psychic break and presto! We have tears. Which segues nicely into useless command number three:

"Stop Crying".

I might as well tell her to stop breathing. At this point any hope of a rational exchange is long gone. I spend the next several minutes trying to have a logical discussion with a five year old which is kind of like reasoning with Ann Coulter.

I am not certain what causes my kids to get all bent out of shape but I suspect it has something to do with having to be on their best behaviour all day while in the care of others. By late afternoon, they must reach their threshold. You know how you feel after Thanksgiving dinner when you waddle into your closet in search of "fat pants"? Well, I believe that when my children enter our home at the end of the day, it cues their emotional version of elastic waistbands and they let it all hang out.

At 5:31pm, we usually step out of the Twilight Zone and back into our routine. While the kids finish up their dinner, I wander from room to room scooping up the grey matter that leaked out of my ears and try to find out where they've hidden their brooms.