It’s been a hard day’s night, I should be sleeping like a log

The kids had a snow day on Friday and another one yesterday, making today a false Monday and putting an end to their four day weekend. Winter has officially hit Long Island.

The day began like any other weekday, some breakfast, packed lunches and snacks, strange outfits and running down the block while the bus patiently sits at the corner with its doors open, ready to swallow up reluctant children. The day is in full swing with lots to get done.

By the time the evening comes, I sit on the couch with a cup of coffee ready to relax, a reward to myself. Sometimes I make a mental list of all the little tasks that I was able to do and I feel accomplished. I sit there all “Carpe Diem” and “Zen-like” feeling proud of myself. You did a good job. There will always be more to do, but you chipped away at the ol’ block today! You owned it today.   It’s usually around this time it starts . . .

“Go to bed,” I say slightly above my typical speaking voice. I can hear pattering feet above me. I decide to make my trip to the bathroom a surprise inspection, popping my head into their rooms while they scramble like cockroaches to their beds and fumble under the covers.

It’s only a few minutes later, their little voices are carried throughout the house, usually giggling or arguing and lots of shushing one another.

“Get in bed,” I shout out, with hope that they will instantaneously feel tired and fall asleep.

Skipping over the dreadful details, the evening typically concludes with me explaining to myself, out loud, that I am not being unreasonable by asking them to go to bed. We did everything that had to get done, it was a packed day and now its time for sleep. Simple.

If the phone rings and I decide to have a conversation, not work related, not bill related, just a casual, shoot-the-shit phone call, I find myself every few minutes pulling the phone away to scream like I have a disease. I am forced against my will to frequently get off the couch to sort them all back into their correct rooms and beds.

Just a few of the things that fly out of my mouth almost every night.

  • I’m done!
  • I’ve punched out!
  • So much happened today. How are you not tired?
  • That’s it! You’re all going to bed a half hour earlier tomorrow.
  • Please just go to bed. Please.
  • Now you’re thirsty? Really?
  • GO PEE THEN!
  • It’s a school night and because I said so, that’s why.
  • The kitchen is closed!
  • NO! I have already tucked you in twice, now you’re on your own!
  • SLEEP!

Not sure what I am doing wrong here, but by the time they all settle down, I can’t even think straight. Any creativity to write or desire to read has been drained and I just sit there in shock.

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Right.

 

My Ass Hurts!

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PITA

Yes, you read that correctly. My ass, does in fact hurt! Why does my ass hurt? I will gladly explain what is causing my ass pain.

Child 1 : Likes to fight with Child 2. Loves to leave dirty laundry on the floor. Hates to share video games. Doesn’t enjoy eating vegetables. Forgets everything. I am not exaggerating on this one, like EVERYTHING!

Child 2: Also enjoys fighting with Child 1. Loves to change into as many outfits as she can in a day. She like to go through my closet to try on my shoes and scuff them. She hates to share. She doesn’t really play with anything. She likes to do things but not play. She would like to employ me as a personal masseuse or entertainment to be ready at her disposal. Loves to spend most of her time setting something up and then abandoning the project. For example, she will pull out tables, blankets, toys, clothes to set up a pretend store, but before she actually plays, gets bored, abandons the idea and leaves the mess. 😦

Child 3: She enjoys crying and whining. She loves to ask for things in that sing song whining voice. EEEK!!! She also enjoys changing clothes and often protests getting left out of what Child 2 is doing. She like to secretly write on the walls and then pretend it wasn’t her, even thought it says her name. She hates to use the bathroom and needs to be dragged to use the facilities. She much rather hold it in until she explodes.

Child 4: She like to eat, eat & eat again. When I cut her off, she cries, cries and cries. She has a cry and scream that can probably speak to the whales in the depth of the sea. She likes to get into things she isn’t suppose to, especially something that is important to Child 1, 2 or 3. She enjoys spilling toys on the floor and then running away. She also enjoys changing her clothes, but when I need her to be dressed she lays limp, not wanting to participate in getting dressed. Go figure.

All of this going on simultaneously can be a real pain in my ass. I love them, I truly do. These people are the air that I breathe and my purpose in life, but sometimes they can be real assholes. I have decided to express to my husband that I am at my wits end. These kids are a bunch of assholes. He simply sips his coffee, unfazed and replies, “I blame it on the parents.”  😦

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Thank you for listening to my rant, again! 🙂

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Now What?

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I find I am clutching my mug of steaming hot coffee a bit tighter lately, grabbing for the throw blanket to burrito myself in more often than usual, and procrastinating a little longer before rolling out of bed or stepping out of the scorching shower. Winter has officially set in for Long Island. BRRR!

The garbage is filled with empty cardboard hearts, yes plural, and a new blemish has erupted on my chin (which for me, is unusual). We have gone through several sketch pads, glue sticks and packages of construction paper in this house. The DVR is empty, every book has been read, the toys have been played with and Logos have been built. We have beaded necklaces and bracelets, molded Play-Doh into mini animal shapes and even practiced some school work.

Its only Monday! SIX MORE DAYS! Six more days the kids are home from school and the snacks are depleting at an astounding rate! Its too cold to go outside and after an unexpected vet bill, my budget is a bit tight.  (Doggie is doing fine now 🙂  )

Its only Monday! Now what?

If it was up to me, I’d remain a burrito all week long reading, writing and editing. Sigh . . but that will not satisfy four energetic children. So does anyone have any great suggestions?


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Absent Minded Professor Syndrome

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Despite the daily rituals and routines, my son is a driving force, rebelling against regularity. At his tender age of eight years old, he pretty much lives the same day on repeat, as most children do. Routine, routine routine! He has the same homework every day, reading, math and spelling. It is all logged into his agenda book daily, which needs to be signed by a parent. We have the same morning and nightly routines that one would expect in any household with children. Pretty standard stuff right?  One would think so.

It could be viciously snowing out, freezing cold temperatures in the dead of winter, when my son charges off of the bus after full day at school. There is only one problem. “Where’s your coat?”

We sit down to do homework, part of the aforementioned routine, and sort through the contents of his backpack. There is just one problem. “Where are your books?”

We are getting ready to leave the house, all six of our family members waiting by the door to leave. There is just one problem. “Where are your shoes?”

I suppose its more than just “one” problem, but every time I am always sincerely surprised. I honestly just cannot believe that he hasn’t mastered the routine of his life by now. I should mention that he receives great grades in school and his reading is well above his grade level. He is no doubt a very intelligent boy. Intelligent but dumb!

I am at my wits end and losing patients . . .