Recognition...the First Step

So we've got 2 very bad habits going on at our house right now that need to be broken before they send me into the Mommy Insane Asylum. How can things that start out fairly acceptable, somehow over time become enough to nearly give me a nervous breakdown? Right now it's: a) finding myself constantly doing things for my kids that they are completely capable of doing themselves, and b) allowing them to argue with every (big or small) decision I make!

It's enough to drive a person over the edge and it's going to stop...effective immediately! How many times a day do I hear, "Mom... I'm thirsty" (and yes, I daily repeat back to them, "Mom...will you please get me a drink?"). Now, really...Can a 7 year old and a 4 year old really not know how to get a cup and put it under the water dispenser that comes out ever so conveniently from the refrigerator door!? Heck, when I was a kid I had to go into the bathroom, climb up on the sink, and stick my head under the running faucet and try to catch the water in my mouth to satisfy my hydration needs! But my little angels have a mom who opens the cupboard door, gets out a sippy or plastic cup, fills it with 1/2 juice 1/2 water (apple for Dyl, grape for CL) and (sometimes) happily places it on the counter. What?! I must be finally coming to my senses because it's been driving me mad all day!! The problem is that I've become so accustomed to taking care of their every need all these years, that I don't even realize when these habits are absolutely ridiculous! Tomorrow it's one cup per person...on the counter... all day... refills are available per the individual...the waitress is officially off duty.

And then there's the arguing...or, "stating their case"... as I liked to call it when they were first learning to vocalize their opinions. Then I decided to "pick my battles" when their desires were not in accordance with mine. And for awhile this was ok, because these instances were few and far between. But now the little boogers have just doggone worn me down.

"Mom, can I have a fwuit snat pwease?"
"No Dylan, we just ate lunch."

"But I'm hundry...!!"

"Well, you should have finished your sandwich..."

"But, I'm stiwl starveen!"

Now this is where Shelbi comes in, screaming after some sort of tumble, and I go rushing across the house...

"Mommy, can I pwease have a fwuit... !!

"Whatever! I don't care...Just get it yourself !" (Of course, now he'd jump off a bridge himself if it won the fwuit snat.)

Nice huh? But it gets better. Christian, the smart little guy that he is, can "state his case" so well that he usually makes more sense than I do. And, I almost don't even realize he's doing it! But it's driving me mad... I can't even speak anymore without thinking ahead to my logical explanation of what my reasoning is, since it will inevitably be challenged. Hmmm..., yes, something is definitely wrong with this picture. And the only thing that makes me even more angry, is when my husband snickers, shaking his head, telling me, "I'm sure it's exactly what you put your mom through...You know where he gets it...". Aghh. But I've taken the first step right? Recognizing there's a problem? Hmmm... it looks like I will have to do the one thing that I swore I'd never do... Say those God forsaken words that my mom so often said to me...

"BECAUSE I SAID SO!!"