There needs to be some sort of organization that women with deployed husbands can call at 10:00 at night when they find a spider in the house that is greater than two inches big.*
I really don’t think it’s too much to ask when I’m sacrificing six months of my life.
*No creative license was taken when composing this post
I appreciate the offers of help. I really do.
However, it’s fall, and the grass has pretty much stopped growing, so I don’t really need the lawn mowed.
And that general, “So do you need anything?” question just begs for the answer “no.”
But if you REALLY want to help?
Here are the top ten ways:
10. Come over at 6am on Saturday and tell the kids that it’s too early to wake up.
9. Then stay and make breakfast (from scratch) while I sleep in until at least 9. Preferably 10.
8. Run to the store at 11pm when I discover I’m out of diapers and can’t move because I’m holding poopy baby legs.
7. After a hard day, run to the store at 9pm to buy me ice cream.
6. And chocolate.
5. Come over at any time of day or night to kill a spider.
4. And a cockroach.
3. And anything that scurries and has a tail.
2. Figure out how to hook the new DVR up to the tv, dvd, soundsystem and ipod player thingy.
1. Run out and get me some cold medicine and a box of tissue, righthisverysecond before my head explodes and I am forced to wipe up the mess with leftover Chik-fil-A napkins because we are out of tissue, napkins, paper towels, and have only enough toilet paper to last for one more day, but only if no one uses it to blow their nose, and none of my children poop in the toilet, which would require us to use our reserve supply of Chick-fil-A napkins, which would stop up the toilet and then you’d also have to come over and plunge the toilet for me.
1. Take one mommy with a cold coming on
2. Add one almost two-year-old who refuses to nap
3. Take family to Barnes and Noble
4. Buy kids nice, sugary snacks, and hot tea for mommy
5. Sit kids down and run to get some napkins
6. Hear kids screaming and panicking.
7. Turn around to see that the baby has spilled the entire cup of hot tea, and it got all over the other kids and their snacks
8. Add several disapproving patrons who only care about the noise level and not the scalded children
9. Mix with one nice woman who buys the kids new snacks
10. Go home and wish you had a husband to put the kids to bed so you could sleep the rest of the evening
Today was one of those days.
It started off well. We spent a couple hours swimming, so by dinner the kids were kind of tired and whiny. I was cooking two dinners. I really wanted sweet and sour chicken, and I knew that Luke didn’t like any part of that, so I was making something else for him when I noticed the look on his face.
You know the one.
The one that causes you to say, “Quick, run to the bathroom!”
And wish desperately for a bucket as you run behind him, knowing there’s no way he’ll make it, and he doesn’t.
He throws up right on the threshold of the bathroom, on the door, the cabinet, and right where the tile meets the carpet and somehow under the carpet.
And then Audrey, who thought running down the hall was a fun game, decided to splash in it.
So I directed Luke to the toilet so he could continue to throw up, strapped Audrey in her high chair to keep her contained and went to start cleaning up.
Then remembered the dinners that were on the verge of burning.
Take them off the stove, ignore the screaming Audrey and go back to the crying, throwing up boy. Get him settled in a bath, dish up some dinner for the girls, walk back to the bathroom while Chloe all the while whines that she is NOT going to eat that.
Clean the floor, door, cabinets and carpet, ignoring the complaining coming from Chloe, wash the towels and clothes Luke was wearing, get Luke out of the bath and re-dressed, tell Chloe to either eat or go to bed, but stop complaining.
Put Luke in bed, get Audrey and Chloe ready for bed, then hear Luke throw up again.
Put Audrey in bed (this time BEFORE she splashes in any vomit) clean up Luke, strip and remake his bed, ignore Chloe’s whining about being hungry because she refused to eat either her dinner or Luke’s dinner. Put the first load of laundry into the dryer and Luke’s bedding in the wash and go out into the garage to find a bucket.
Come within six inches of putting my bare foot onto a black widow.
Step very carefully over to where the bug spray is kept, come back and realize that the black widow has vanished.
Spray entire corner of the garage with bug spray, then realize that I just sprayed the bucket I was going to the garage to get.
Find an alternate vomit receptacle, say goodnight to the kids, clean the carpet again.
Go into the kitchen, take one look at the cold, congealed sweet and sour chicken that sounded so good once upon a time and feel like I’m going to throw up.
Decide to eat a pop-tart instead, only to realize that we don’t have any because I buy them for Isaac and he is deployed.
Decide it’s either cry or blog.
And it’s because after 6 months all alone in a nice, roomy, king-sized cage, some boy bird moved in and spread his wings and snuggled up and pinned the bird to the very edge of the bed cage and then proceeded to fall asleep within 15 nanoseconds (how does he do that, how, HOW?) while the girl bird was stuck there, wide awake and trying to tug her leg wing out from under him while various itches cropped up all over her body and the urge to move overwhelmed all other thought processes and I NEED TO BE FREE TO ROLL OVER AT NIGHT PEOPLE!!!
This post was brought to you by a sleepless night and three cups of coffee…so far.
