I'm so glad we had a great day yesterday because today was not a great day. Quite the opposite.
My oldest three children asked me if they could play at the tree park while I made lunch. I said sure, as the "tree park" is a little maintained grassy area in the center of the cul-de-sac a few steps away from our house. No biggie.
But ten minutes later, when the homemade mac and cheese was ready, I walked to the tree park only to find it free of human life. Hmm. I went back to my house and ate some noodles before I threw up and then set off to hunt down the children.
I searched for 30 minutes with nary a sign of them. I asked neighbors; I knocked on doors.
I finally returned home to get the van and check on Eli (whom I had left sleeping in his crib), and found my three missing children eating lunch at the table. After spanking them all with the wooden spoon (figuratively speaking--I actually use a plastic spoon, but that doesn't have the same ring to it) for not being where they were supposed to be, we got down to the nitty gritty of just where the heck they'd been.
It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. Our dear neighbor, Sister Riggs, loves my children. I've never understood why. But Miriam goes over and reads to her, and the other children go and beg for candy. It's that kind of relationship. Apparently, Sister Riggs wasn't home at lunch time so Miriam took it upon herself to go into Sister Rigg's backyard, and through her back door and into her house. Where she and Cowen and Emeline ran around for a good forty minutes entirely unsupervised.
Breaking and entering.
And theft.
And unnecessary placing of cans of pop in strange places throughout the garage. I know this because I received a call later that afternoon.
Sometimes I really wonder why I chose to have children. And why I am choosing to have another one.
Bottom line: my children have had too much free time on their hands while Mom has been trying to: a) not throw up; and b) get ready to teach the course I'm teaching for WSU that starts on Thursday.
I'm fairly certain that just a few weeks ago I managed to get everything done that needed to get done while being a reasonably attentive mother. I can't remember what that was like. All I know is that my brain is mush, I'm not ready for class on Thursday, my house is a DISASTER, and Miriam choosing this week to become fond of unpicking all the locked rooms in the house and creating mayhem (not to mention the breaking and entering of other people's homes) was not good timing.
Not good timing, at all.
My oldest three children asked me if they could play at the tree park while I made lunch. I said sure, as the "tree park" is a little maintained grassy area in the center of the cul-de-sac a few steps away from our house. No biggie.
But ten minutes later, when the homemade mac and cheese was ready, I walked to the tree park only to find it free of human life. Hmm. I went back to my house and ate some noodles before I threw up and then set off to hunt down the children.
I searched for 30 minutes with nary a sign of them. I asked neighbors; I knocked on doors.
I finally returned home to get the van and check on Eli (whom I had left sleeping in his crib), and found my three missing children eating lunch at the table. After spanking them all with the wooden spoon (figuratively speaking--I actually use a plastic spoon, but that doesn't have the same ring to it) for not being where they were supposed to be, we got down to the nitty gritty of just where the heck they'd been.
It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. Our dear neighbor, Sister Riggs, loves my children. I've never understood why. But Miriam goes over and reads to her, and the other children go and beg for candy. It's that kind of relationship. Apparently, Sister Riggs wasn't home at lunch time so Miriam took it upon herself to go into Sister Rigg's backyard, and through her back door and into her house. Where she and Cowen and Emeline ran around for a good forty minutes entirely unsupervised.
Breaking and entering.
And theft.
And unnecessary placing of cans of pop in strange places throughout the garage. I know this because I received a call later that afternoon.
Sometimes I really wonder why I chose to have children. And why I am choosing to have another one.
Bottom line: my children have had too much free time on their hands while Mom has been trying to: a) not throw up; and b) get ready to teach the course I'm teaching for WSU that starts on Thursday.
I'm fairly certain that just a few weeks ago I managed to get everything done that needed to get done while being a reasonably attentive mother. I can't remember what that was like. All I know is that my brain is mush, I'm not ready for class on Thursday, my house is a DISASTER, and Miriam choosing this week to become fond of unpicking all the locked rooms in the house and creating mayhem (not to mention the breaking and entering of other people's homes) was not good timing.
Not good timing, at all.
2 comments:
Oh wow. This one's not even funny to a reader a long way away. Sorry man.
Ditto to what Kayli said. Ouch.
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