It tends to go a little something like this:
Grace Rose Me
“Mommy! MOMMY! Good morning Mommy. You’re my favorite mother ever.”
“I’m your only mother ever.”
“But you’re my favorite.”
“Thank you baby.”
“Good morning Momma. I love you.”
“I love you too baby.”
“Momma, it’s time for breakfast. Can I have some cereal with no milk and some juice with water?”
“Yeah, cereal with no milk…alright. What about sissy?” Sissy has left to turn on the morning cartoons.
“I want a ham and cheese and balogna sandwich please…OH! And chocolate milk.” What a lovely combination…it turns my stomach every morning.
“Okay.” And the day begins…
Not too long afterwards there is the constant squeals from one kiddle torturing another. And it’s usually something along the lines of what it was today…
“Mommy! Rose is teasing me…she said that I’m not beautiful because I have dragon breath.”
“Rose, stop teasing Grace. You’re still beautiful even with dragon breath…but it would probably be a good idea to go brush your teeth so they smell more like peppermint patties, right?”
“Okay…but tell Rose not to tease me anymore.”
“Rose don’t tease sissy anymore…and go brush your dragon breath away too.”
“Fine. Okay…I will brush away the dragon breath.” *HHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHH* (that would be Rose breathing her dragon breath down the hall to the bathroom)
And I have to admit it…I laugh at this because it’s just too funny. I laugh until I hear the water constantly going…the giggles and splashing occuring out of my sight. The laughter stops because I know that I am about to walk into a room that I really don’t want to go face.
After a few hours of the constant banter between a 4 and 5 year old…and I’m about ready to pull my hair out. You see, I can’t get away from the noise…in an apartment there is no way to get away from the noise. So the screechy play voices, the yelling, the fake baby crying…they all start to just pile up and the room begins to spin. Yes it does…it seriously feels like I’m in one of those clips in a movie where you see everything circling around the character right before they blow.
And sometimes, okay a lot of the time, I do blow.
“WILL YOU PLEASE JUST STOP!!!”
It’s not a question at this point…it’s a demand. If I don’t demand then there isn’t even a moment of peace…and God knows that I need peace. I ask Him for it everyday…several times a day in fact.
Along the way of the day I come across several different Destruction Zones…sometimes it feels like they will never end. The ones that I recall from the past day (no joke) are:
* Overflowed toilet from unrolling half of the toilet paper into it (“I was trying to make sure my heinie was really clean”)
* Lake in the kitchen (“I wanted to pour some water into my bowl”)
* ALL of the books from their bookshelves emptied all over the bedroom
* Overflowing bathroom sink with suds from the attempts to clean their own glasses throughout the day
* Crayon wrappers all over the carpet (“I don’t like the paper…they need to be naked”)
* Cocoa Puffs all over the cushions of the couch and all over the floor…including crunched into the carpet (“It wasn’t me Momma. I’m being good. Rose is being a brat and was throwing them in the air to try to catch them with her mouth.“)
* ALL of their shoes and stuffed animals covering the bedroom floor (this happens at least twice a day…somehow they can never stay on their shelves or in the basket)
* Toys taped all around the coffee table. It has wrought iron sides & legs…perfect for taping up captured toys.
* Smeared orange cheesy fingerprints on the couch cushions.
* DVDs emptied out from at least 2 shelves of their storage center.
* Chocolate syrup and strawberry syrup smeared all over the kitchen counter…and floor. (“We were thirsty, so we made chocolate and strawberry milk all by ourselves! Aren’t you proud of us Momma?!“)
Mind you, this is the occurrence of just one day…just one. I go like a spinning top from one Destruction Zone to another…in constant clean mode. It kinda feels like I’m Rosie from The Jetson’s. Why can’t I have a Rosie instead? Wouldn’t that be amazing?! Every time disaster strikes, WHOOSH, here comes Rosie to save the day! She’d be worth every penny…or quarts of oil depending on what is decided for payment.
Then somewhere in the day, if I’m lucky, I get them both to lay down for a nap. Sometimes it’s only 30 minutes of peace and quiet….after listening to them fight about each other not going to sleep yet. When it’s a really good day…2 hours of peace and quiet are awarded to me! Those are the days that I feel like a queen…a very frazzled queen, but I’ll take those 2 hours and cherish them, milk them, do whatever I can to enjoy them. I have to…because after that the insanity begins once again.
And by the time Charming gets home, well I’m very greatful for his arrival. Poor guy always thinks that he’s going to get 30 minutes to an hour of peace to unwind after work…that doesn’t happen. He’s lucky if he gets 15 minutes. And that’s usually only because he locks himself in the bathroom to just breath without all of the chaos surrounding him.
How come a Dad can disappear into a bathroom and the kiddles will wait and leave him alone until he reappears? But when a Mom heads into the bathroom, no sooner that when her tushie touches the seat…*knock knock knock*
“Mommy, are you in the potty? When will you be done? Can I have some candy? Can we go to the park? Come on Mom, is it sunny out so we can go? Can I have some juice with water? Sissy made a mess, it wasn’t me, it was Sissy. Are you all done Momma?”
And it always comes in a barrage of questions and statements like that…there’s not even any time to respond. Before you’re even half way through the interrogation you are racing to be done and just get out.
The funny thing, and sometimes irritating thing, is that after about 20 minutes of my little girly kiddles’ craziness…Charming has had it. He’s asking them to be quiet and settle down. All I say is, “Welcome to my day.” To which he replies, “That’s why God made Moms, Dad’s can’t take this all day long. Better you than me.” The statement is both funny and irritating.
After making and cleaning up dinner…and cleaning up anything else that needs it (the carpet, the table & chairs, the wall, etc.) I am so ready for bedtime. And that in and of itself is a 30 minute to 1 hour process. But once they are in their beds, and not throwing stuffed animals at eachother anymore, it is such a wonderful time. There is no screams of pain, no taunting, no fake crying, no singing at the top of their lungs, no little chipmunk voices for stuffed animals, no more calls for Mommy to come and rescue one from the other…just peace and quiet.
I love peace & it’s friend quiet.
So, am I alone in my crazy little life? Is it just my world that is barking mad? Or is the rest of the world right there with me?