Annnnd I'm Feeling Better. . . For Now

So.  Realtor Number Three is the one - as I said in my last post.

Realtor Number one: Freaked me out via text message.  My nerves can't handle that.

Realtor Number two: Great guy, awesome personality, very helpful and enthusiastic and he was very excited about his marketing techniques.

Realtor Number three: Immediately could tell I was freaking out (because most women would panic a little when they find out they are suddenly moving - with kids and in this market) and as a woman herself - spoke to me as I needed to be spoken to.  She told me not to panic and told me about homes in my area that she had recently sold - and told me that she was going to do everything she could to sell my house, including help me stage it.  Done.  That is what I needed to hear.  And she came highly recommended from a good friend . . . so there ya go.

On another note:  Lucas and Nick had a enormous fight over their basketball hoop and in the process broke the damn thing during the physical confrontation.  Lucas decided to lay on top of the thing (it was laying on the ground) to keep Nick from having it, and Nick was on top of Lucas trying to rip Lucas off of the basketball hoop (Nick is nearly as big as Lucas).  The hoop was smashed under their weight and the net was ripped off the hoop.

I was so mad at them.  Yes Mad.  Mommy's aren't allowed to get mad anymore it seems.  They are supposed to maintain their calm and always keep perspective and be all Stepford-like. I was pissed and I'm admitting it.  I pulled them off of the hoop, by the waist bands of their pants, and stuck them in corners for time out.  Lucas and Nick screamed and cried as I announced that I was taking the hoop to the trash - they had broken it and it was no longer theirs. 

Oh that was unpopular.  They were crying so hard that Lucas threw up.  He got up and ran to the toilet.  I brought him some water to rinse his mouth out - and then I sent him right back to time out. 

Brutal.  I know.  Just because you make yourself puke doesn't get you out of trouble.  Oh Hell NO.  And I left them sitting there for nearly ten minutes.  I thought I would feel bad, but I don't.

I don't remember ever having these physical confrontations as a kid. I remember fighting and screaming and maybe throwing something, but I don't recall having a full on Ultimate Fighting Championship brawl in the living room of my parent's home.  I don't remember my parents ever having to pry my sister and I apart by the waist bands of our pants. I don't think we ever stepped on each others hands on purpose or jumped from the couch in a surprise move to tackle the other one as they walked past.  It is insane.  I keep disciplining but these boys seem to be hard wired to do this crap.

Incidentally - if anyone ever needs to know. . . the waist band thing worked really well because they ended up hanging there like little bats and they couldn't do much about it.  I need to start lifting weights so I can be ready to bust up fights when they are teenagers.