A normal day in our house resembles an Ultimate Fight Club tournament. The conflicts begin innocently enough…I make a simple request of my toddler, he refuses and a battle ensues.
My husband is quick to blame our heritage. He is German and I am German and Irish. Obviously, Germans are notorious for their hot tempers and the Irish are considered to be a stubborn people. We try to do our part to perpetuate these stereotypes and my husband will be the first person to tell you that a stubborn woman with a hot temper is a load of fun to keep around. If that’s not enough fun for you, try hanging out with a toddler that has this personality.
Hubby had a moment of enlightenment today after I spent over an hour trying to put the toddler down for his nap unsuccessfully. It’s the Irish in us that causes these conflicts.
I’m the Catholic Irish of the household. Although I’d rather not fight, I’m fighting for what I think is right. I’m also just stubborn enough that I’ll fight as long as it takes to get my way.
That means that David is the militant IRA Protestant Irish of the house. He loves to fight and he’ll fight to the death to win. So what if he has to blow himself up along the way?
I think the solution to this constant conflict is to just follow in the footsteps of Ireland. When they find peace, we’ll just do whatever they did.
Either that, or the boy will grow up and go to college.