I am having no problems thinking up a catchy title for my blog this evening as the words are still ringing in my ears. It all started with a drive home from the store, late at night, and very very tired child and a headache from you know where. (Recipe for disaster!)
We went to Albertsons because I wanted to use some double coupons before they expired today. Well, we used to live right by the Albertsons and my child wanted to see our old house that we had already driven by on the way there. (The old house has been torn down and there is a duplex going on the lot.) I had a splitting headache and was feeling quite nauseous from it. (I should have taken some Tylenol like my hubby suggested.) You can imagine I wasn't up to another trip past the old house.
As we drove by the street that we should have turned on, my child starts wailing at the top of their lungs about wanting to go THAT WAY. OUCH my head. As we merge onto the freeway, their wailing evolves into hysteric and outrageous demands about wanting to go THAT WAY!! By this time I am ready to jump out of my van just to escape the pounding in my head. I try to explain calmly that I need them to quiet down because of my headache, but my pleading is in vain. Finally, (and ashamedly) I resort to unmentionable threats if they do not stop behaving in such a manner. I would be better off beating my head against a brick wall. (Hopefully it would knock me out and I would be rid of the headache.)
After what seemed like an eternity, (probably 10 minutes) we pull into our driveway and I warn my child to run as fast as they can to their bed before I get to them. (I feel terrible for some of the fitting punishments that were going on in my head at this point.) The child stands inside the van just wailing and wailing. I hit my breaking point and take them by the arm to escort them to their bed. They are still wailing. I can't take the noise anymore and then I discipline them (probably a little more harsh than I should have.) It is time for that Tylenol before I do anything I will regret.
The Tylenol finally kicks in and I gather my wits back together and I go back to my child who is still wailing and I ask their forgiveness and if they need a hug. There are just some moments that a mother can never explain and this was one of those. I got to snuggle with my child in a way that I haven't been able to in a very long time and I thank my Creator for allowing me to be a mother just so I can have moments just like this.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
It Was Two Children, In the Laundry Room, With the Steak Knife!
Wow, it's almost been a week since my last post and not from the lack of things to write about. Due to the fact that I have been getting very little sleep, I have failed to stay awake after my children are in bed long enough to make an entry. I have made a few attempts, but I don't think my hubby would like it if I drooled on the keyboard after falling asleep mid typing. At least it hasn't been longer (like a year). Anyway, I hope that some people are enjoying my efforts. Comments are welcome. Here is another mother experience. I would love to hear some of yours if you are brave enough to tell!!
I have mentioned in a previous article that my children are very inventive. I must write about one such instance to demonstrate. Last Friday afternoon, I walk into my laundry room to put something away (probably dirty clothes). I put away what I need to and turn around to see one of my steak knives laying on top of my washing machine. How odd! (You would think after so many times I would stop thinking that and start knowing that my children are behind such things.) I pick up the steak knife to return it to the kitchen and see my cat coming out of our crawl space door right next to the washer. (We have a split level home and our entire main floor has a 4 foot crawl space for storage under it. It's all lit up and everything. I love it! The only way to access it is a door in the wall next to our washer.) Normally this door latches with a magnet, but no magnet is any match for a curious cat and 4 children so it is tied closed with a thick rope (for extra safety) to one of the shelf supporters above the washer. At this point I'm asking myself how they could get the rope untied and I go to grab the handle to pull the door shut again and hoping the cat has left no surprises in our crawl space. Finally, I notice the frayed rope still clinging to the door handle and a light bulb turns on (I wouldn't be surprised if you could actually see one over my head) as I realize my children have sawn through the rope with the steak knife. (And all this for a little ride on toy that they weren't supposed to have anyway and the toy isn't even under there.) My shoulders slump in surrender to the thought of what this entails. It's only a matter of time until they figure out that they can cut through the plastic fridge lock (my last hope of control). Heaven help me.
I have mentioned in a previous article that my children are very inventive. I must write about one such instance to demonstrate. Last Friday afternoon, I walk into my laundry room to put something away (probably dirty clothes). I put away what I need to and turn around to see one of my steak knives laying on top of my washing machine. How odd! (You would think after so many times I would stop thinking that and start knowing that my children are behind such things.) I pick up the steak knife to return it to the kitchen and see my cat coming out of our crawl space door right next to the washer. (We have a split level home and our entire main floor has a 4 foot crawl space for storage under it. It's all lit up and everything. I love it! The only way to access it is a door in the wall next to our washer.) Normally this door latches with a magnet, but no magnet is any match for a curious cat and 4 children so it is tied closed with a thick rope (for extra safety) to one of the shelf supporters above the washer. At this point I'm asking myself how they could get the rope untied and I go to grab the handle to pull the door shut again and hoping the cat has left no surprises in our crawl space. Finally, I notice the frayed rope still clinging to the door handle and a light bulb turns on (I wouldn't be surprised if you could actually see one over my head) as I realize my children have sawn through the rope with the steak knife. (And all this for a little ride on toy that they weren't supposed to have anyway and the toy isn't even under there.) My shoulders slump in surrender to the thought of what this entails. It's only a matter of time until they figure out that they can cut through the plastic fridge lock (my last hope of control). Heaven help me.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I Don't Think I Like Peanut Butter and Honey!
I hope I haven't caused anyone to be up till wee hours of the morning trying to read my last post. Sorry, I didn't realize how long yesterday's entry was till I sat down to proof read it now that I'm not half asleep. I am making my entry short today. As I review the day in my mind one particular moment comes to mind so I will write about it.
It is mid afternoon and my patience is wearing thin with the children, after all I had to get up early to be to the vet (lucky for one of my children the dog is okay), and then had work done on my tooth as well. I am walking through the house picking up things off the floor when I somehow catch a glimpse of a peanut butter jar on an end table downstairs in the living room as I pass the stairs. It takes a minute to register before it dawns on me something is not right. I unload my arms of the items I've already picked up and go to investigate. As I approach the peanut butter jar I realize the children have stashed a bread bag with half a loaf of bread under the table and that there is water all over the top of the table as well. Why can't my children follow rules?
Upstairs to the kitchen I go to grab a cloth. Walking back down stairs my husband passes by me and asks me what's going on. To save the children from an outburst from Daddy I tell him it isn't anything that I can't take care of. (I should let him put them in their places but my patience is already hanging by a thread.) I grab the bread out from under the table and the bag is completely covered in peanut butter. YUCK! I do my best to wipe it off and give up. Next I grab the peanut butter jar and as I move it I see the bottle of honey the jar had been concealing. Instantly I realize that the "water" on the table isn't water. It's also dripping down the sides of the table and there is a dime sized puddle right by my toe. My first thought is I hope my hubby doesn't come in soon because if he loses it I can't handle it emotionally or mentally right now. Oh the things I would love to do them right now, though.
My first wiping doesn't get everything so I grab the peanut butter, honey, and sticky bag of bread to put in the kitchen and rinse my rag out. My second attempt almost gets it and I put my hand on our recliner to help me balance as I'm reaching over it to get to the table. That's when I discover the peanut butter all over the chair because I feel the slime. I would really like to know who is responsible for this. Lucky for them it wipes out of the chair material rather easy so I'm not so angry. Now that the chair is cleaned up I finish the table. What to do for the honey in the carpet?
I get my rag clean again and dab over and over and the spot. It seems to come out so now I don't have to carry out the evil plans going on in my head of how I will make the children work it off if we have to pay for a carpet cleaner. I'm off to make dinner now.
At the top of the stairs, I am greeted by a monster covered in all sorts of colors from water paints who slightly resembles one of the children who had been using them. Shower time. I sigh and wonder if I'm going to be able to get dinner on before tomorrow comes. If I'm lucky!
It is mid afternoon and my patience is wearing thin with the children, after all I had to get up early to be to the vet (lucky for one of my children the dog is okay), and then had work done on my tooth as well. I am walking through the house picking up things off the floor when I somehow catch a glimpse of a peanut butter jar on an end table downstairs in the living room as I pass the stairs. It takes a minute to register before it dawns on me something is not right. I unload my arms of the items I've already picked up and go to investigate. As I approach the peanut butter jar I realize the children have stashed a bread bag with half a loaf of bread under the table and that there is water all over the top of the table as well. Why can't my children follow rules?
Upstairs to the kitchen I go to grab a cloth. Walking back down stairs my husband passes by me and asks me what's going on. To save the children from an outburst from Daddy I tell him it isn't anything that I can't take care of. (I should let him put them in their places but my patience is already hanging by a thread.) I grab the bread out from under the table and the bag is completely covered in peanut butter. YUCK! I do my best to wipe it off and give up. Next I grab the peanut butter jar and as I move it I see the bottle of honey the jar had been concealing. Instantly I realize that the "water" on the table isn't water. It's also dripping down the sides of the table and there is a dime sized puddle right by my toe. My first thought is I hope my hubby doesn't come in soon because if he loses it I can't handle it emotionally or mentally right now. Oh the things I would love to do them right now, though.
My first wiping doesn't get everything so I grab the peanut butter, honey, and sticky bag of bread to put in the kitchen and rinse my rag out. My second attempt almost gets it and I put my hand on our recliner to help me balance as I'm reaching over it to get to the table. That's when I discover the peanut butter all over the chair because I feel the slime. I would really like to know who is responsible for this. Lucky for them it wipes out of the chair material rather easy so I'm not so angry. Now that the chair is cleaned up I finish the table. What to do for the honey in the carpet?
I get my rag clean again and dab over and over and the spot. It seems to come out so now I don't have to carry out the evil plans going on in my head of how I will make the children work it off if we have to pay for a carpet cleaner. I'm off to make dinner now.
At the top of the stairs, I am greeted by a monster covered in all sorts of colors from water paints who slightly resembles one of the children who had been using them. Shower time. I sigh and wonder if I'm going to be able to get dinner on before tomorrow comes. If I'm lucky!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
So Much For House Cleaning.
I hate to miss a day of typing because if it's anything like how I keep my journal you can be expecting another entry in about 9-12 months. By then I would probably be typing about the child I just had. I'm really tired and nodding off as I'm typing so if you find any typos (especially you, honey) please let me know in the comment section so I can fix them. Anyhow, I will jump back to the morning and share some of it's highlights.
I decide to follow my child's advice from yesterday about the peanut butter and honey sandwiches since it is 8:54 a.m. when I get out of the shower and one of my children has preschool at 9:30. I throw on my clothes as fast as I can, dig in the piles of laundry (still on my to do list) for clothes that my children need, distribute them, ask one of them to make sure and put on their shoes, and they whine because they don't know where they are and I suggest looking in their closet, toy box, or the shoe bench downstairs. They come back still whining that they cant find them. I go in their room and look, but no shoes. Ah ha, church shoes. I help my child put them on and remind my child to play only on the grass with them while they're at preschool. I head down stairs.
The baby is upset now. Back up stairs I go and then back down. I sit on our black couch to feed her. Okay, she's burped and fed. It is now 9:24. Darn! I herd the older children out the door to the van. It's locked. I reach in my pocket for the keys. Where are my keys? As I run back into the house I ask the children to stay right by the van, ha ha. Now I'm in the house looking around and trying to remember where I had my keys last. I spy my jacket on the coat rack. Could they be in the pocket? Bingo! Back outside I unlock the van, gather the children back up, and make sure the children buckle up. Now I can throw a peanut butter and honey sandwich together so that the one child can eat on the way over. (Nice breakfast!)
As I pass by the stairs, I see a streak of skin out of the corner of my eye and realize that my child that is still in the house has only a diaper on. SIGH! Back up the stairs I go to the laundry pile on the bed. (I really need a pedometer to see how far I walk everyday.) On the way to my room, I pass by their bedroom and stop in there first to see if there is anything in the dresser for them to wear. JACKPOT! Back downstairs to clothe them. I show them what mommy found and they give me a mischievous smile and turn to run away. Too late, I catch them by the arm, hurry and put a shirt on over their head and pull their arm through the hole before they can retaliate. I throw a pair of shorts on them and hustle them out to the car in record time.
One of the children decides that they would like to go to preschool too and I see that they aren't dressed for it. They need a different shirt so back upstairs for a suitable one. I'll put it on them when I go back outside. Downstairs again I put the shirt on the couch by the front door so I don't forget it. As I put it down, I notice the shoes that my child couldn't find earlier sitting right there on the shoebench. After a head shake, I grab those too and put them by the shirt. Now for that sandwich
Back in the kitchen I grab out the makings for the sandwich. Uh oh, I'm low on bread I hope there will be enough for the children when I get back from dropping the one off. I throw two sandwiches together (one for the other child now too) put the makings away, grab some napkins, grab the baby in her car seat by the door, balance the sandwiches on the car seat, and tuck the shirt and shoes under my free arm so I can open the door. Here we go outside again.
As I sit in the driver's seat I happen to look at the clock in the van and see it is 9:34. So much for being on time. I drive to preschool at my friend's house and unload the two preschoolers. I ask if the one can stay but this is not a good day for an extra child. I inform my friend that I understand and break the news to the hopeful child. The smile fades quickly from my child's face as the implication of what I tell them sinks in and they start a heart wrenching cry. I pick up my wailing child and put them back in the van. I help them feel better by letting them ride in the absent child's car seat. Time to drive back home.
Back at home we all unload and I ask the children to go and sit at the kitchen table as they pass by me. I grab the makings for the sandwiches and sit down at the table too. I start to make the sandwiches and I know that I'm going to run out of thawed bread. I decide to use what I have first and hope that the children don't want anymore. With their sandwiches made, we say a blessing on the food and they start to eat. There is a heel left and as I make myself half a sandwich I mentally make a plan of action for getting the house straightened up.(The mess is really starting to get to me.) I bite into the soft bread and get a shooting pain in a side tooth. OUCH! The tooth had been bothering me a little the last couple of days but nothing like this. Where is the phonebook? It's time to call a dentist. Maybe I can I get a free consultation.
There are a zillion pages for dentists but I call the first one in my town. They can get me in if I can come in the next ten minutes for a free consultation. Of course I can. (So much for house cleaning!) I hope one of my neighbors can watch some children for me. I call one neighbor, no go. I call another. They can take the children! (Thanks Jana!) I send two children over as I load up the baby and the other child. I drive around the corner and let my child out that is with me and make sure the other two are there. Off to the dentist. Thank goodness it is only a few blocks from my house.
At the dentist they get me right in and sit me in the dentist chair. They ask me some questions and fill out some paper work. The dentist comes in looks at my tooth with his little mirror thing and informs me I have a large cavity and that the enamel is breaking off my tooth around it. He orders an exray to get more info and I don't even have to wait for him to come back and tell me that something is definately wrong. They have the picture the just took displayed on a computer screen on the wall and I can see that something is really wrong with one of the teeth because it is way different than the others. He walks in and starts talking to me about a root canal and crown. HUH? I'm only 27! I thought root canals were for older people. How did my teeth get so bad? And how am I going to break the news to my hubby? They bring in a itemized price sheet. YIKES! $1500. I'm done here.
In shock, I gather up the baby and other stuff and head home. It's almost time to pick up my preschooler. I drive to my neighbor's house and she shows me some coupon shopping stuff that I had asked her to before. (Thanks again Jana) While we are doing that, one of my children has a little mess accident and I stop and clean it up. Drats, it's all over their unders, pants, socks, and legs. Time to go home.
I pull in the driveway, run inside to grab some more clothes for my one child, and decide to grab the phone and break the news to my hubby while I'm searching. He is very silent on the phone. I hope he's going to be ok. BEEP. Call waiting and it's the preschool teacher. I notice the time and I'm late picking up my child. I click over and apologize for being late. She is actually calling to see if I want her drop off my child because she is on her way to the store. ABSOLUTELY! (Thanks Chrissy) I can unload the kids now.
I check the clock. I have 15 minutes until I'm supposed to go visiting teaching and I haven't read the lesson yet. Where is my Ensign? What am I going to do about the children? I call another neighbor. They can take the three older ones. Phew. 5 minutes now to read my lesson. One child comes over and wants to read it with me. Teaching moment. I have them read the first paragraph. They are doing very well at reading I tell them so. We talk a little about some things that they didn't understand. They decide to move onto something else now. DING! My companion is here but not my preschooler. I send two children over to the neighbor's house and read the lesson with my companion. Where is my preschooler? KNOCK! KNOCK! DING! There they are. I send them to the neighbor too, thank her teacher for bringing her, and grab the baby, the last child, and stroller. Out the door we go. Something tells me I'm not going to get a nap today. (I can still dream!)
I decide to follow my child's advice from yesterday about the peanut butter and honey sandwiches since it is 8:54 a.m. when I get out of the shower and one of my children has preschool at 9:30. I throw on my clothes as fast as I can, dig in the piles of laundry (still on my to do list) for clothes that my children need, distribute them, ask one of them to make sure and put on their shoes, and they whine because they don't know where they are and I suggest looking in their closet, toy box, or the shoe bench downstairs. They come back still whining that they cant find them. I go in their room and look, but no shoes. Ah ha, church shoes. I help my child put them on and remind my child to play only on the grass with them while they're at preschool. I head down stairs.
The baby is upset now. Back up stairs I go and then back down. I sit on our black couch to feed her. Okay, she's burped and fed. It is now 9:24. Darn! I herd the older children out the door to the van. It's locked. I reach in my pocket for the keys. Where are my keys? As I run back into the house I ask the children to stay right by the van, ha ha. Now I'm in the house looking around and trying to remember where I had my keys last. I spy my jacket on the coat rack. Could they be in the pocket? Bingo! Back outside I unlock the van, gather the children back up, and make sure the children buckle up. Now I can throw a peanut butter and honey sandwich together so that the one child can eat on the way over. (Nice breakfast!)
As I pass by the stairs, I see a streak of skin out of the corner of my eye and realize that my child that is still in the house has only a diaper on. SIGH! Back up the stairs I go to the laundry pile on the bed. (I really need a pedometer to see how far I walk everyday.) On the way to my room, I pass by their bedroom and stop in there first to see if there is anything in the dresser for them to wear. JACKPOT! Back downstairs to clothe them. I show them what mommy found and they give me a mischievous smile and turn to run away. Too late, I catch them by the arm, hurry and put a shirt on over their head and pull their arm through the hole before they can retaliate. I throw a pair of shorts on them and hustle them out to the car in record time.
One of the children decides that they would like to go to preschool too and I see that they aren't dressed for it. They need a different shirt so back upstairs for a suitable one. I'll put it on them when I go back outside. Downstairs again I put the shirt on the couch by the front door so I don't forget it. As I put it down, I notice the shoes that my child couldn't find earlier sitting right there on the shoebench. After a head shake, I grab those too and put them by the shirt. Now for that sandwich
Back in the kitchen I grab out the makings for the sandwich. Uh oh, I'm low on bread I hope there will be enough for the children when I get back from dropping the one off. I throw two sandwiches together (one for the other child now too) put the makings away, grab some napkins, grab the baby in her car seat by the door, balance the sandwiches on the car seat, and tuck the shirt and shoes under my free arm so I can open the door. Here we go outside again.
As I sit in the driver's seat I happen to look at the clock in the van and see it is 9:34. So much for being on time. I drive to preschool at my friend's house and unload the two preschoolers. I ask if the one can stay but this is not a good day for an extra child. I inform my friend that I understand and break the news to the hopeful child. The smile fades quickly from my child's face as the implication of what I tell them sinks in and they start a heart wrenching cry. I pick up my wailing child and put them back in the van. I help them feel better by letting them ride in the absent child's car seat. Time to drive back home.
Back at home we all unload and I ask the children to go and sit at the kitchen table as they pass by me. I grab the makings for the sandwiches and sit down at the table too. I start to make the sandwiches and I know that I'm going to run out of thawed bread. I decide to use what I have first and hope that the children don't want anymore. With their sandwiches made, we say a blessing on the food and they start to eat. There is a heel left and as I make myself half a sandwich I mentally make a plan of action for getting the house straightened up.(The mess is really starting to get to me.) I bite into the soft bread and get a shooting pain in a side tooth. OUCH! The tooth had been bothering me a little the last couple of days but nothing like this. Where is the phonebook? It's time to call a dentist. Maybe I can I get a free consultation.
There are a zillion pages for dentists but I call the first one in my town. They can get me in if I can come in the next ten minutes for a free consultation. Of course I can. (So much for house cleaning!) I hope one of my neighbors can watch some children for me. I call one neighbor, no go. I call another. They can take the children! (Thanks Jana!) I send two children over as I load up the baby and the other child. I drive around the corner and let my child out that is with me and make sure the other two are there. Off to the dentist. Thank goodness it is only a few blocks from my house.
At the dentist they get me right in and sit me in the dentist chair. They ask me some questions and fill out some paper work. The dentist comes in looks at my tooth with his little mirror thing and informs me I have a large cavity and that the enamel is breaking off my tooth around it. He orders an exray to get more info and I don't even have to wait for him to come back and tell me that something is definately wrong. They have the picture the just took displayed on a computer screen on the wall and I can see that something is really wrong with one of the teeth because it is way different than the others. He walks in and starts talking to me about a root canal and crown. HUH? I'm only 27! I thought root canals were for older people. How did my teeth get so bad? And how am I going to break the news to my hubby? They bring in a itemized price sheet. YIKES! $1500. I'm done here.
In shock, I gather up the baby and other stuff and head home. It's almost time to pick up my preschooler. I drive to my neighbor's house and she shows me some coupon shopping stuff that I had asked her to before. (Thanks again Jana) While we are doing that, one of my children has a little mess accident and I stop and clean it up. Drats, it's all over their unders, pants, socks, and legs. Time to go home.
I pull in the driveway, run inside to grab some more clothes for my one child, and decide to grab the phone and break the news to my hubby while I'm searching. He is very silent on the phone. I hope he's going to be ok. BEEP. Call waiting and it's the preschool teacher. I notice the time and I'm late picking up my child. I click over and apologize for being late. She is actually calling to see if I want her drop off my child because she is on her way to the store. ABSOLUTELY! (Thanks Chrissy) I can unload the kids now.
I check the clock. I have 15 minutes until I'm supposed to go visiting teaching and I haven't read the lesson yet. Where is my Ensign? What am I going to do about the children? I call another neighbor. They can take the three older ones. Phew. 5 minutes now to read my lesson. One child comes over and wants to read it with me. Teaching moment. I have them read the first paragraph. They are doing very well at reading I tell them so. We talk a little about some things that they didn't understand. They decide to move onto something else now. DING! My companion is here but not my preschooler. I send two children over to the neighbor's house and read the lesson with my companion. Where is my preschooler? KNOCK! KNOCK! DING! There they are. I send them to the neighbor too, thank her teacher for bringing her, and grab the baby, the last child, and stroller. Out the door we go. Something tells me I'm not going to get a nap today. (I can still dream!)
Monday, June 22, 2009
Already In Trouble.
Here comes another day and already I'm in trouble. When I called my husband this morning to wish him a good morning as I always do I am greeted with "You were up quite late last night. Like 2:00 late!" But he also admitted that it was pretty good so I don't feel so guilty now. One thing he pointed out that I must correct myself on for yesterday's post is that he did remember a bottle for our 3 month old. (Thanks sweetie, you're so awesome.) I also had another comment on Facebook noting the hour at which my blog was posted (and I say this humorously Alison) and I noticed the hour the comment was posted a few minutes after I posted on my blog. I have to admit my first thought is "Hmm, something is fishy here."
By 9:00 am I've already had to lock our poor toy poodle in her cage to keep her safe from our well rested and energetic children. Even as I type, one of them is on top of her cage and is bare from the waist down. Time to dig in the piles of laundry to find some "unders". (Folding is on my list of things to do today as it was all last week too!) I must go supervise another child on their violin as they are attempting to practice without me. Squeak, squeak.
Yikes!! As I descend the stairs I see the same bare bottomed child on my kitchen stove and I have straight on view of things I don't want to see. They have also found the candy bowl. How in the world did they get that? It was supposed to be up on the very top of the kitchen cupboards. I really need to find that child some underwear. On to the sitting room to help with violin practice. Done. Now what for breakfast?
Rats! I walk into the kitchen and realize I have to wash some pans before I can cook anything. (I really wish we had cold cereal around sometimes.) Then my baby starts crying louder and louder in her car seat and I finally surrender. Breakfast is put on hold as I feed her. Back to the kitchen. I hear screaming in the next room where children are supposed be folding laundry and it gets to the blood curdling type screaming so off to investigate. I find one swinging a necklace that has a rather large porcelain pendant on it trying to hit another child. I ask the child to give it to me. The child refuses tell I take a few steps towards them and they relinquish the necklace by throwing it at me. I sigh count to ten in my mind and then put the weapon in time out amid the screams of two children. Bad necklace.
Back to the kitchen. I open the fridge to pull out some eggs and somehow before I even get the eggs the children that were just screaming in the front room are now in front of me pulling the pitcher of koolaid out and asking me for some. Ah ha. Opportunity! I ask them what chores still need to be done (nothing comes for free) and one runs to the dishwasher and starts unloading grabbing out the silver ware tray at a precarious angle. I ask them to be careful... CRASH... too late! Oh well, they clean it up anyway. Meanwhile, the other child runs upstairs to strip their wet sheets off their bed. I love preying on their weakness for sugar.
Since my children are all busy, I hurry and take the opportunity to finally gets some pans washed for breakfast. I also load the dishwasher with dirty dishes as I go along. The child that was upstairs stripping their bed is now at my heels demanding their koolaid. I tell them to wait until I'm ready to pour them some. A fit starts but I head it off by asking if they would like to put the soap in the dishwasher. Of course the child jumps all over that. Phew! That was close.
Finally I'm ready to cook and I hear frantic screams coming from the baby upstairs. Off I run up the stairs and behind me a child starts to whine because I started the dishwasher and they wanted to push the button. I'll deal with that in a moment. I get upstairs and thankfully no one is hurting the baby, she is just angry. I head back down stairs with the baby in my arms just in time to see the child who was whining closing the dishwasher door (they had opened it in my absence) and another child had thrown a foam soccer ball in right as the door was closing. Lucky I saw that otherwise I would have had a nasty mess later.
Once again, I'm back to getting breakfast cooked, or should I say brunch seeing that it is now 11 am. I get some eggs frying in a pan and before I know it there is a child on a chair they had drug over right there in front of me. I love to teach my children how to cook, but it isn't one of those times I'm very open to the idea. Oh well. I will live with it so I don't have another fit on my hands. Still, I absolutely refuse to let this particular child crack the eggs for me. So much for avoiding a fit. We finally compromise on letting the child hand me the eggs and I get to crack them. While the eggs are cooking, one of the children informs me that Ella is sitting at the table waiting for her food, but I can't see Ella because she is a ghost friend. Does this mean were finally graduating from the princess stage? ( I mentally cross my fingers.)
HURRAY! Breakfast is FINALLY cooked and we sit down to eat. Maybe I should have listened to one of my children earlier who was insisting on making peanut butter and honey sandwiches for breakfast instead of trying to cook any breakfast foods.
By 9:00 am I've already had to lock our poor toy poodle in her cage to keep her safe from our well rested and energetic children. Even as I type, one of them is on top of her cage and is bare from the waist down. Time to dig in the piles of laundry to find some "unders". (Folding is on my list of things to do today as it was all last week too!) I must go supervise another child on their violin as they are attempting to practice without me. Squeak, squeak.
Yikes!! As I descend the stairs I see the same bare bottomed child on my kitchen stove and I have straight on view of things I don't want to see. They have also found the candy bowl. How in the world did they get that? It was supposed to be up on the very top of the kitchen cupboards. I really need to find that child some underwear. On to the sitting room to help with violin practice. Done. Now what for breakfast?
Rats! I walk into the kitchen and realize I have to wash some pans before I can cook anything. (I really wish we had cold cereal around sometimes.) Then my baby starts crying louder and louder in her car seat and I finally surrender. Breakfast is put on hold as I feed her. Back to the kitchen. I hear screaming in the next room where children are supposed be folding laundry and it gets to the blood curdling type screaming so off to investigate. I find one swinging a necklace that has a rather large porcelain pendant on it trying to hit another child. I ask the child to give it to me. The child refuses tell I take a few steps towards them and they relinquish the necklace by throwing it at me. I sigh count to ten in my mind and then put the weapon in time out amid the screams of two children. Bad necklace.
Back to the kitchen. I open the fridge to pull out some eggs and somehow before I even get the eggs the children that were just screaming in the front room are now in front of me pulling the pitcher of koolaid out and asking me for some. Ah ha. Opportunity! I ask them what chores still need to be done (nothing comes for free) and one runs to the dishwasher and starts unloading grabbing out the silver ware tray at a precarious angle. I ask them to be careful... CRASH... too late! Oh well, they clean it up anyway. Meanwhile, the other child runs upstairs to strip their wet sheets off their bed. I love preying on their weakness for sugar.
Since my children are all busy, I hurry and take the opportunity to finally gets some pans washed for breakfast. I also load the dishwasher with dirty dishes as I go along. The child that was upstairs stripping their bed is now at my heels demanding their koolaid. I tell them to wait until I'm ready to pour them some. A fit starts but I head it off by asking if they would like to put the soap in the dishwasher. Of course the child jumps all over that. Phew! That was close.
Finally I'm ready to cook and I hear frantic screams coming from the baby upstairs. Off I run up the stairs and behind me a child starts to whine because I started the dishwasher and they wanted to push the button. I'll deal with that in a moment. I get upstairs and thankfully no one is hurting the baby, she is just angry. I head back down stairs with the baby in my arms just in time to see the child who was whining closing the dishwasher door (they had opened it in my absence) and another child had thrown a foam soccer ball in right as the door was closing. Lucky I saw that otherwise I would have had a nasty mess later.
Once again, I'm back to getting breakfast cooked, or should I say brunch seeing that it is now 11 am. I get some eggs frying in a pan and before I know it there is a child on a chair they had drug over right there in front of me. I love to teach my children how to cook, but it isn't one of those times I'm very open to the idea. Oh well. I will live with it so I don't have another fit on my hands. Still, I absolutely refuse to let this particular child crack the eggs for me. So much for avoiding a fit. We finally compromise on letting the child hand me the eggs and I get to crack them. While the eggs are cooking, one of the children informs me that Ella is sitting at the table waiting for her food, but I can't see Ella because she is a ghost friend. Does this mean were finally graduating from the princess stage? ( I mentally cross my fingers.)
HURRAY! Breakfast is FINALLY cooked and we sit down to eat. Maybe I should have listened to one of my children earlier who was insisting on making peanut butter and honey sandwiches for breakfast instead of trying to cook any breakfast foods.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Surprise!! I'm not a perfect mother.
Now that the cat is out of the bag, let me explain why I chose this particular title. First of all, I am a mother of 4 wonderfully inventive children and 1 intern (she's only 3 months old, but I know what's coming). One might say it isn't so significant to have 5 children but when you add the little detail that my oldest is 6 years old, it sheds a whole new light. (And before anyone asks...YES, I know what causes it!!) When people get to know me, I am often asked "How do you do it?," or "I don't know how you do it," and I think if only I had a dime for every time someone said this I would be a millionaire and could hire a nanny to help out. The truth is I don't know how I do it either. I just do. I get up each morning and face each new day with it's struggles and pleasures and pray, pray, pray.
Sometimes I feel that people put me up on a pedestal and come asking for advice on problems they are facing with their own children. (I suppose they mistake me for an expert on raising children.) I smile or laugh and tell them, "When you figure it out let me know too," because quite often I am facing the same challenges. My favorite is when someone comments on how patient I am with my children. (Come stop by my home about nap time and see how patient I can be!) That's when the video of the past 24 hours starts playing in my mind and I see all the times I lost my temper or thought about flushing one of my children down the toilet or throwing them in the garbage can. I admit I have used duct tape on my children to help them sit down in their chairs through a meal or two. (I love whoever invented duct tape!) My husband wasn't too thrilled when he first heard of my creative coping skills, but it is better than the alternative of me admitting myself to the nut house.
So why I am writing about all of this? I have learned as a mother how refreshing it is to hear about the trials that other mothers are facing, especially the ones we see as perfect mothers. I am dedicating this blog to writing the good, the bad, and the ugly of my own experiences of being a mother so that I might give someone who might be ready to throw in the towel a reason to keep going. (It's also a wonderful way for me to vent and I stink at keeping a journal so I guess I'm killing two birds with one stone.) And FYI, I won't be giving any names to protect my children from embarrassment and all that good stuff because I do love them very much.
So here is what happened on Father's Day today. We woke up later than my husband wanted to be and so he runs in a wakes up the children immediately. Well, there goes my idea of breakfast in bed for Daddy. Oh well, I try not to be too upset. I at least give him his card and let the children give him the shirts that I bought him.
Downstairs for breakfast, I serve up 6 grain for the children because it's leftover from the morning before and I make my hubby eggs, hash browns, and sausage to try and salvage the morning. (I had to make some for me too because there just wasn't enough 6 grain for me, Darn!) Of course the children start balking at the unfairness and I don't blame them either. Thank goodness for parental privileges.
Next comes the tricky part of fixing the hair of 3 girls for church, finding church shoes, getting everyone out to the van, and in their seat belts without someone having to go potty again, pulling their hair ties out, hitting their sibling(s), or losing a church shoe in less than 20 minutes. It happens to be Stake Conference this Sunday so I make a mad dash to the office to grab a few notepads and a pencil box of colored pencils to keep children happy for 2 hours. As a last minute thought, I grab a few Friends to add to the collection as well. As I am loading up my "activity bag" I notice there is a bottle on the table that one of my children had been using for breakfast and think to ask my husband if he had grabbed a bottle for that child. He had forgotten! We have done that once before and it got really ugly at church. Thank goodness I had seen that.
Phew! We make it church before the meeting starts, but we are in the hard chairs. Oh well, at least we made it. I immediately take all potty trained children to the bathroom to avoid any potty breaks during the meeting. One child runs way ahead of the rest of us and as I enter the restroom they have struck up a conversation with someone in there and was trying to peek under the stall doors. I point out that all the doors are locked and to wait for our turn. Potty breaks done we sit back down with Daddy.
The meeting starts right after we sit down and we get 5 minutes into it when a child says they have to go potty. Argh, we just got back. This time they need to go mess. We get to the bathroom they run in and then run out of the stall quickly. I asked if they went mess and they said no, just wet. I turn the water on for them to wash hands. Oops, they wanted to do it! (How could I forget.) Here comes a fit. I turn off the water they turn it back on and try to get soap that they can't reach. I ask if they want my help. NO!! I wait. Here comes another fit. Finally, they ask me for help. We get done and I ask my child to WALK reverently back in the meeting. I open the door and ZOOM they RUN clear around the other side of the aisle we're on and then cross in front everyone on the opposite end to sit back down. I'm still calm at this point.
Everything goes pretty well during the first half of the meeting other than a few more potty trips and children trying to draw on the chairs. The second half they loose it because they are bored and I even stand with one in the back because I'm giving Daddy the day off. As I watch my hubby from my sideline view though, I realize he isn't getting any time off at all! Sorry.
The meeting is finally over (YEAH!) and we make a mad dash for the van. No problems there. We get home and we open the doors and VROOM they run out in all directions. I ask them to come in for lunch and sit in their seats several times. (Huh? did you say something mother?) I'm tired and low on blood sugar by this point and I confess I lose it (Oops). They heard me that time.
The rest of Sunday passes pretty well without any catastrophes. So now I'm heading off to slumber land to find some peace there while I can get it. More to come tomorrow I'm sure.
Sometimes I feel that people put me up on a pedestal and come asking for advice on problems they are facing with their own children. (I suppose they mistake me for an expert on raising children.) I smile or laugh and tell them, "When you figure it out let me know too," because quite often I am facing the same challenges. My favorite is when someone comments on how patient I am with my children. (Come stop by my home about nap time and see how patient I can be!) That's when the video of the past 24 hours starts playing in my mind and I see all the times I lost my temper or thought about flushing one of my children down the toilet or throwing them in the garbage can. I admit I have used duct tape on my children to help them sit down in their chairs through a meal or two. (I love whoever invented duct tape!) My husband wasn't too thrilled when he first heard of my creative coping skills, but it is better than the alternative of me admitting myself to the nut house.
So why I am writing about all of this? I have learned as a mother how refreshing it is to hear about the trials that other mothers are facing, especially the ones we see as perfect mothers. I am dedicating this blog to writing the good, the bad, and the ugly of my own experiences of being a mother so that I might give someone who might be ready to throw in the towel a reason to keep going. (It's also a wonderful way for me to vent and I stink at keeping a journal so I guess I'm killing two birds with one stone.) And FYI, I won't be giving any names to protect my children from embarrassment and all that good stuff because I do love them very much.
So here is what happened on Father's Day today. We woke up later than my husband wanted to be and so he runs in a wakes up the children immediately. Well, there goes my idea of breakfast in bed for Daddy. Oh well, I try not to be too upset. I at least give him his card and let the children give him the shirts that I bought him.
Downstairs for breakfast, I serve up 6 grain for the children because it's leftover from the morning before and I make my hubby eggs, hash browns, and sausage to try and salvage the morning. (I had to make some for me too because there just wasn't enough 6 grain for me, Darn!) Of course the children start balking at the unfairness and I don't blame them either. Thank goodness for parental privileges.
Next comes the tricky part of fixing the hair of 3 girls for church, finding church shoes, getting everyone out to the van, and in their seat belts without someone having to go potty again, pulling their hair ties out, hitting their sibling(s), or losing a church shoe in less than 20 minutes. It happens to be Stake Conference this Sunday so I make a mad dash to the office to grab a few notepads and a pencil box of colored pencils to keep children happy for 2 hours. As a last minute thought, I grab a few Friends to add to the collection as well. As I am loading up my "activity bag" I notice there is a bottle on the table that one of my children had been using for breakfast and think to ask my husband if he had grabbed a bottle for that child. He had forgotten! We have done that once before and it got really ugly at church. Thank goodness I had seen that.
Phew! We make it church before the meeting starts, but we are in the hard chairs. Oh well, at least we made it. I immediately take all potty trained children to the bathroom to avoid any potty breaks during the meeting. One child runs way ahead of the rest of us and as I enter the restroom they have struck up a conversation with someone in there and was trying to peek under the stall doors. I point out that all the doors are locked and to wait for our turn. Potty breaks done we sit back down with Daddy.
The meeting starts right after we sit down and we get 5 minutes into it when a child says they have to go potty. Argh, we just got back. This time they need to go mess. We get to the bathroom they run in and then run out of the stall quickly. I asked if they went mess and they said no, just wet. I turn the water on for them to wash hands. Oops, they wanted to do it! (How could I forget.) Here comes a fit. I turn off the water they turn it back on and try to get soap that they can't reach. I ask if they want my help. NO!! I wait. Here comes another fit. Finally, they ask me for help. We get done and I ask my child to WALK reverently back in the meeting. I open the door and ZOOM they RUN clear around the other side of the aisle we're on and then cross in front everyone on the opposite end to sit back down. I'm still calm at this point.
Everything goes pretty well during the first half of the meeting other than a few more potty trips and children trying to draw on the chairs. The second half they loose it because they are bored and I even stand with one in the back because I'm giving Daddy the day off. As I watch my hubby from my sideline view though, I realize he isn't getting any time off at all! Sorry.
The meeting is finally over (YEAH!) and we make a mad dash for the van. No problems there. We get home and we open the doors and VROOM they run out in all directions. I ask them to come in for lunch and sit in their seats several times. (Huh? did you say something mother?) I'm tired and low on blood sugar by this point and I confess I lose it (Oops). They heard me that time.
The rest of Sunday passes pretty well without any catastrophes. So now I'm heading off to slumber land to find some peace there while I can get it. More to come tomorrow I'm sure.
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