Shall we call it a 'Mutual TimeOut'?!??

Ummm.
There has been a bit of a phenomenon that has taken place in our family dynamic since there were little boys present in our family.  It was not created for Savannah, in fact, to this day this specific re-occurring event has never involved her... and I hope now that she is 16 she doesn't reverse that track record.  This phenomenon of which I speak could be loving called 'Mommy and Me TimeOut' or perhaps 'Mutual TimeOut'.

 Since I have omitted the word 'hate' from my vocab... I shall instead say that I very, incredibly, undeniably, dislike intensely... POUTING.  There.  It's true.

 I'm of the opinion... SAY IT (of course with respect and some amount of self-control)... but darn tootin' USE YOUR WORDS.  inhale... exhale... one moment please...

 OK, composure regained, I think.  Don't even get me started on the EVIL EYE.  Truth is when I get the evil eye from any of my children... I can't help but, then and in that very second, laugh my head off.  Funny stuff!

 So, back to by original train of thought... I actually do have an actual train of thought.
Many a times, and many times A DAY, when Christian was a youngster there would erupt from our happy little home a DECLARATION of Christian AND Mommy time-out.  Please don't say I am alone in this event.  Me ordering Christian to his room, then me promptly storming off to my room.  Only to hear my little son innocently ask minutes later if OUR timeout was over yet.  Truth be told there were several very long winded timeouts in those days.  Ahhhh, good times, snicker.

And so with the birth of Ty, the mutual timeouts have become a bit of a family tradition again.  Stubborn!  HIM not me, of course... I am the shining example of patience and long suffering after all.  Yep.

 It must be documented that Today it wasn't Math OR Cursive Writing OR the study of the tilt of the Earth's axis... that brought on the overly animated sulking.  Nope.  It was a request on my part for him to unload the dishwasher.  So unforeseen!  Apparently this was the straw, him the camel.  Then came an unfortunate event of the camel pouting and evil eyeing me and me laughing hysterically which in no way helped the situation.  I can be a tad immature in these moments.  So to make a long story finally conclude, yep, Ty and I found ourselves in separate rooms, a mutual timeout.  Him, very reminiscent of his older brother, asking in 2 minute intervals, "is OUR timeout over?"  We'll find this funny later, much later, like years from now, right? 

 And this is very similar to how Ty looked when the whole dishwasher unloading explosion and following timeout was over.  All better!

 I guess it is a good thing that mommies find their babes so loveable!

Since I determined it unwise to grab my camera and take photos of Ty today in the throes of his epic pout, I instead have graced you with old photos.  Cute, huh?