Thursday, July 7, 2011

Another day in the life of a harried mother....

(I wrote this when I was about 8 months pregnant with Joseph.  Ian was nearly 7, David was 4, Marie was 20 months.)

"Just another day here...started at 5am when Marie woke up.  I'm still not sure why;  it wasn't light yet and the garbage trucks still had another hour before they started roaring by.  She went back to sleep, but woke up again at 6:30 (so between her and the garbage trucks, I didn't get much sleep after 5). 

I was so hopeful for the day to come, even after that, because last night I had decided to cook a roast for dinner (always a huge, wonderful thing to actually figure out what's for dinner for the day!), and I had decided to cook it on low all night and into today to see how that would turn out (because the last time I cooked this kind of roast, it was tender enough to pull apart with a fork, but when you actually chewed it, it was pretty tough), so I thought I was starting out on a good note today....until I came downstairs, wondering why the house did not smell deliciously of roast, and discovered that Husband had turned the oven off an hour after I had turned it on last night because, WITHOUT OPENING THE OVEN DOOR, he thought I had just left it on, sigh.  Now there's the dilemma of what to do about the meat?  Has it been growing things all night and is ruined?  Or, since it was frozen when I put it in, has it just been slowly thawing all night? 

I tried VERY HARD to move past this great disappointment (and believe me, IT WAS HARD), to the great morning joy of reading to the children.  While we were sitting at the table reading, the kids were coloring---in between asking me questions that had nothing to do with what we were reading and doing things to irritate each other---and Marie fell off her chair and landed flat on her back and the back of her head on the hard kitchen floor.  I was/am hoping she isn't going to have some sort of concussion from that because you just can never tell when they whack their heads so hard....little did I know that that was only the beginning of hitting the floor for the day. 

David's speech person came right after I finished reading to the kids, and Marie fell off the chair AGAIN while she was there.  Also, while David was having speech, the maintenance man who was supposed to come YESTERDAY showed up, and then my neighbor down the street came by to ask me something. 

I got a brief intermission from the day while we played outside for an hour after speech, but it started right back up when we came in for lunch.  Of course, all Marie wanted for lunch was a graham cracker covered in sugar and cinnamon, and I couldn't get the boys to hold still long enough to tell me what they wanted for lunch. 

I decided I should probably make more yogurt because I turned that last batch into popsicles in the ice cube trays and everyone has been loving those, so I started the milk cooking just as Marie's diaper fell off of her little bottom and hit the floor.  I pulled her diaper the rest of the way off and told her to tell me if she needed to use the potty because I just couldn't bear the thought of hauling my pregnant self up the stairs right before I had to take her up for her nap anyway. 

I turned around to finish what I was doing and an instant later I noticed Marie getting the towel off the refrigerator door...something she usually does when she's spilled something....it didn't really click though, but I decided I probably ought to put her on the potty just in case.  I told her to come with me and as she was coming she slipped on something on the kitchen floor and hit her head AGAIN....not sure if she hit it on the floor or the wooden stool this time.  I thought she had slipped on a melted ice cube from earlier (she decided yesterday that she really wanted to hold an ice cube and eat it and she was still liking that idea today).  I took her to the potty and started to read to her, but I kept having to come back in the kitchen to stir the milk on the stove, and she always complained when I left. 

During all of this, the boys were cackling about something at the kitchen table and telling each other knock knock jokes, in between bursts of someone screaming at someone for irritating them.  The last time I was in the bathroom reading to Marie, I heard the boys laughing uproariously and Ian came tearing down the hall saying, "I'm going to tell mom what you did!"  Seems that David had flung his popsicle somewhere into the kitchen, and, of course, was just planning on leaving it wherever it had landed.  I told Marie I was going to have to go check on that, which didn't make her happy, and as I came through the kitchen yet again to find the popsicle and stir the milk, I noticed that it indeed HAD NOT been a melted ice cube that Marie had slipped on, but a little yellow puddle. 

So, I'm trying to clean all of this up, while Marie is stuck on the potty complaining because she is marooned there, and I'm still trying to stir the milk.  About this time, Ian goes into the living room, and I hear him get mad at David, and then I hear a WHACK, so I have to stop mopping long enough to go in the living room and have a discussion with Ian about how it feels when someone hits us when they are mad, while sending a shrieking David into the bathroom to entertain Marie until I got finished....

Can I just tell you how badly I NEED A NAP?!  But no, quiet time is over and I get to jump back into the fray. 

I SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO understand why old people are deaf....their shrieking children destroyed their hearing!

Well, it's time to go get the boys out of quiet time, and I'm going to try my darndest to have a positive experience with these children today so that I do not have to cry myself to sleep tonight.  ARGH!  The ice cream truck is starting to drive by already!  In between the harassment I am going to have to endure every time the boys hear that music and the fact that it is probably going to wake Marie up, this is not improving my day."

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