So Many Observations, So Little Time

I've learned quite a bit over these past few months. As you may guess by my lack of posting, my people have kept me busy. A little too busy. Sometimes I think the wrong kind of busy.

Take today for example: Our Fearless Leader and I were awakened by the pitter patter of little feet and the words, "poopy peepee pahyee ay-em." Please bear in mind that, despite our valiant efforts, Wonder Boy is not yet potty-trained. So, when the boy appeared in our room at the crack of dawn to tell us that he would like to poopy and peepee in the potty for m&m's, I had little choice but to drag my congested self out of bed and assist Wonder Boy in his effort. Nothing like m&m's for breakfast.

But then I found myself downstairs with three of the four children by 7:00 a.m. By 7:20 a.m., all four children had eaten breakfast or were in the process thereof. By 7:45 a.m. they were all dressed, Our Fearless Leader had left for work and I was already facing a mutiny. By 8:00 a.m. the thought that we had another hour to kill before we could load up for preschool dawned on me... that was when the chill of fear began to rise. Sure enough the two middle children had a shared time-out and a "save it for the gym" lecture for using each other as punching bags by 8:10 a.m. At 8:17 a.m. a second time-out was served by the 7yo for insubordination. I realized the recidivism rates are a bit high in this familial institution for my liking.

Somehow I managed to get both levels of the house vacuumed; the children got the dishes done, the bathroom sinks wiped out, and no one was tragically dismembered or the victim of an accidental, but permanent, death. Oh, wait. There was a ball pegging. That counts toward the recidivism rate, doesn't it?

The day looms large ahead. I am small. I am frightened. And I bring you back to the beginning of this post. I've learned a lot. I've learned that I am outnumbered, busy, and in desperate need of more sleep. I've also learned that I have to work on not unleashing my wrath simply because my people are acting like the unpolished people they are. I've learned that I am unpolished, too. If I ever learn what exactly to do about that, I'll let you know.

Paralyzed

I have come to the realization that I am essentially paralyzed when WB is awake. I cannot use the bathroom, change over laundry, fill a glass with water, let alone accomplish a task like "declutter the master closet." It is simply not possible. The entire 12 hours that WB is awake must be spent with eyes glued to him, no exceptions.

He had a wonderful day yesterday. I was lulled into a false security. I attempted to load the washing machine.

I found WB on the driveway waiting for me to discover him. Lucky for me, Miss M decided to stand at the doorway with a stricken look rather than follow WB. He will be the author of his own doom, of this I am certain.

You make me do EVERYTHING!

This is what my 7yo decided to whine about this evening. It was uttered with the utmost drama. Drama which was lost in the moment because I was changing out the garbage bag as he said it. The next moment was me throwing some trash in the recycle bin. The moment after that saw me moving into the living room to start putting the baby in pajamas.

Yes. That's right. You, the crabby 7yo standing idle in the kitchen, that's right. You are doing everything while I eat bon bons on the sofa.

Oy.