Why 6 year olds rules the world

Woohoo! posting 2 days in a row, where's my medal? Anyway, back to the real world. I managed to drag my ass to work today where I proceeded to do almost nothing until lunchtime and after lunch had to test some pretty awful kids in science. Needless to say by the time I came home I was beat. Being pregnant does that to you (apart from other things which shall remain nameless for the time being)

I picked up my son from "martial arts" and drove the 1 1/2 blocks home to the tune of his incessant screaming that we "must go to Miles' house because he had planned a playdate with him and if we didn't go Miles was going to poke him with a pencil". I tried to explain to Chicka that 6 year olds do not plan playdates...parents do; I don't even know where Miles lives and I listed all the reasonable reasons I could think of why we could not head straight to Miles' house at that very moment. Of course this didn't work and I had to proceed to all Mom's greatest discussion ender "That's it I'm not talking about this anymore, this discussion is over". That put a lid on it for a couple of minutes, until he started asking me if he could play with his Wii (which is currently at my mother's house; but we were heading over there anyway to have some pre-dinner cooking snack) so I told him he could play 1/2 an hour.

Once we got to my mother's house I asked Chicka if he wanted to eat; he said no then played for about 5 minutes then said he wanted PB&J so he had a sandwich; then he went back to playing then he wanted what I was eating we had another discussion then he went and put a whole tub of spaghetti my parents had in the fridge from yesterday into the microwave (without my knowledge of course) My mom and I started wondering why the microwave kept beeping when my son comes over and asks me how long it will take to heat up the spaghetti because he already put it on for 110 minutes and it's not heating up; I explained to him that when we want to heat something up just for one person he has to put only what he's gonna eat on a plate and into the microwave. He did and he ate and he went back to playing his Wii. 5 minutes later he had to go to the bathroom where he proceeded to spend the next 15 minutes taking a you know what. By the time he came out of the bathroom it was time to go but he refused to leaving saying he had only gotten to play his game for 15 minutes and not 30 as had been planned. After much crying, screaming and punishing we finally left for home.

In the car I told him he needed to go to bed at 8:00 instead of his usual 8:30 because he's been really tired lately and very whiny. Well guess what time he went to bed tonight? 9:00pm. And no he didn't coerce me into anything, he didn't whine or even have a crying fit...I was just too tired to fight with him anymore. Case closed, you win.

Get ready for the rematch tomorrow baby!