Alright kids, you win.
You outnumber, out-energy, out-chaos me. Clearly I had no chance tonight. Daddy is out of town and Mommy’s autopilot function is out
of commission until a minimum of 4 hours of consecutive sleep happens. We cruised through the day with such
success! I was so pleased to
accomplish all that I intended! I
brought Molli to school on time and even
remembered to pick her up, got the car washed, did some grocery shopping,
started thank you notes, cleaned the kitchen, did a few loads of laundry from
start to finish, fed everyone at all the appropriate eating times and even
remembered to distribute vitamins. A winner of a day!
Then came dinner, which was delicious. Molli loved each thing included in her
dinner but had me pulling out my hair with her refusal to eat it. All the usual distractions and excuses
such as “standing is more fun than sitting,” “I want to touch everything in a
10’ radius,” or, my personal favorite, “the baby is too cute, I need to look.”
Plus some meal specific ones; “forks are too hard with bowls,” “it’s getting
cold,” “I need help.” I don’t know how many times I had to say something along
the lines of “Eat, Molli. Sit down. Put a bite in your mouth. Etc.” I even pulled out the meanest mommy in
the world card and Gavin and I had a delicious piece of chocolate, chocolate
chip cake right there at the table with her. It made her cry, but alas, it did not make her finish
eating. Eventually, an hour and a
half later, she decided her arms were too tired for dinner or cake and she
declared it bath time. Fine by
me.
I got everyone all washed up, teeth brushed and jammies on
while Baylor napped happily in the bouncer. Alrighty, off to bed!
Never mind that it’s only 7:15.
I cheated and turned their “OK to wake” clock blue prematurely and
they’re none the wiser. This was
when I was still pretty confident that I was winning the day. It wasn’t long until I was proven
wrong. You see, I’m human and make mistakes from time to time. I had a temporary lapse in judgment and
deemed this moment an appropriate one to trim my hair. It’s growing out and looking a bit like
a mullet in the back, so it needed to happen. Immediately, apparently.
Rule #1 in parenthood: be leery of impulsivity- it often
backfires.
And backfire, it did.
I stripped down to my hair cutting outfit, which isn’t much. Got my hair
wet and made the first snip. As if on queue, Baylor started to cry. Uh-oh… Let’s see if I can get some of
the way done before helping him.
Snip, snip, snip. Each time
the scissors closed, the crying got progressively louder and more frantic. Ok fine, you win, baby. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I
rescued Baylor and nursed him sitting on the closed toilet in all my
haircutting outfit glory, covered in pieces of trimmed off hair. We sat there, he and I, doing our thing
when a terrible THUD interrupted the giggles from the big kid’s room and
reverberated through the floors. Then the crying came through the monitor and
walls. It was Molli. Falling off the bed. Oh, did I mention her bed is the top
bunk? Well it is, and she fell off it.
I was unavoidably detained and had to debrief with her through the
monitor speaker function. She was
fine but angry with Gavin for “making her fall off the bed.” I didn’t get the
full story, but enough to send her back to bed, a little bit in trouble for
messing around.
I put a sleepy Baylor back to bed and left to check on the
big kids who were not even pretending to be asleep. The little turds were
running around, wearing Gavin’s swimming gear over their pajamas with everything strewn about the bedroom. Laundry basket emptied, a brand new container of wipes also emptied,
all the pillows, blankets, stuffed animals and books on the floor. Just a mess.
I let them know I meant business, made them both cry and put
them back in their beds. (Which is another whole issue as Gavin is barricaded
in his bed with a rail and gates. Apparently he can squeeze between the rail
and top bunk and plop himself to the floor.) I made threats and left. Not long
later I walked back in and about flipped out at them. I watched Gavin nosedive back into his bed shouting “NOOO
MOMMY!” and Molli threw herself backwards onto her bed, pulling the covers over
her entire body. As though that
would make me believe she’s sleeping???
I pulled out the big guns because at this point, it’s going
on ten and I’m over the shenanigans. I stayed true to my threats and sent Molli
to bed in a tent in the play-room and put a gate up in the doorway where Gavin
remained. I’m not interested in
him coming in and destroying my precious sleep before “clock is lellow.”
So now, if you’ll excuse me, tonight’s chicken pot pie
dinner is cementing itself to the dishes. I may not win the whole day, but at
least the dishes don’t talk back.