When mom is a bitch, we spin our chicken

Last night I was a bitch. I was not just a little crabby, I was intolerable. I was tired, sore, and fed up with doing everything myself. I know today that it is my own fault. I am the parent and if I need help, I need to ask. They would never think to clean their room on their own (unless of course they have allowance on their mind). I bitched and moaned and made everyone really sorry to be in my presence. I made Devon cry over his homework, I made Nick run for the cover of his bedroom, even the fish seemed to be hiding behind rocks. One of my best friends from High School called and after about 10 minutes into our conversation he asked if it was “my time”. I almost hung up on him!
Note to male friend: Never ask a girl that, EVER!
I felt bad and I decided to try and be agreeable. I called for a “Pinner Dinner” and that seemed to help smooth things over a little. At least they weren’t curled up in the corner anymore.

Years ago, I bought two wooden Lazy Susans to use for a brunch I was having. My boys decided one night to eat dinner on the “spinners”- thus, “Pinner Dinner” was born (Devon couldn’t say spinner). We would spin them around and what ever ended up in front of you, you took a bite of. Sometimes I would announce “Pinner Dinner” if I made something I knew they wouldn’t be thrilled with. It made a huge difference and we got through dinner with little or no grumbling. We have continued this and still call it “Pinner Dinner”. Now that the boys are older, they can eat on the floor with the spinners. I love “Pinner Dinners”.