Normally, I don't care to share our less-than-perfect days because although we all have them, the few times I've dared to share that my children have normal fits and starts in their journey, just like every other non-lobotomized child on the planet, someone always feels the need to be a jerk about my children and ya know, that's just crappy. So, no comments on this one (If you want me, you know where to find me.)
Anyhow, Mondays can sometimes feel like a fresh start to a new week. Other times they have more of a wild-animal-loose-in-the-bathroom feel to them. Today was a little of both. I wrote this email at 11:30 this morning (edited slightly for public consumption):
The boys got up- they woke me up by assembling a glow-in-the-dark 3-d dinosaur puzzle on my head. "Mama, can you put the legs in?" I tried. I couldn't find a notch. I gave up. (This took all of two seconds.) "Mama, the legs aren't on." *mumble, mumble* Yes, I know. It's a legless dinosaur. That's why they're extinct. Jacob pounces on my head. James shoves his bony knee a little further into my right kidney. Ugh, what time is it? John says it's time to eat. James says it's 8:39. Crap, crap, and double crap. That means Zorak is gone and we're stranded again.
I tried to get up, but got clotheslined by the alarm clock cord. What the -- Oh. He tucked the alarm clock under his pillow so I wouldn't hear it. (In spite of repeated entreaties to believe me when I say I'd rather get up with him than sleep in and awaken to the Breakfast Brigade, Zorak still believes what I *really* want is to sleep in. It's sweet, just not first thing in the morning.)
Breakfast is nutritionally bereft cereal. They start in on one another. The usual bossy 6yo and the meanspirited retaliation that goes with siblings. Jacob coughs up a ton of mucous onto his breakfast. The boys are fascinated and completely grossed out. I take that opportunity to break up the posturing before they can really latch on to each other, redirect them, and then I clean up Jacob. No Latin, no Bible over breakfast.
While getting the kitchen tidy, Jacob escapes the high chair and does a Coyote Ugly on the tray. I remove him from the show and he begins screaming.
James decides he doesn't want to memorize this week's Bible verse b/c it's "too hard" (It's Luke 6:31- do unto others as you would have others do unto you- I'm thinking this is a psychological block) but he wants to make a flow chart of all the chapters in the Bible and how many verses are in each chapter. Somehow, *that* doesn't seem daunting at all!
John is booby trapping the dining room. I need to remember to ask for a map with all the traps marked. Some of them are painfully good.
Jacob has not quit screaming since I took him offstage.
OK, go get dressed. You have sweats on the ironing board in Mommy & Daddy's room. Fresh sweaters are in the closet. I tend to Smidge while they're "getting dressed". He stops yelling just long enough for me to realize... they're not getting dressed. They've been up there fifteen minutes. James comes flying down just about then, in his undies. "Mom, my sweats are nowhere up here." (Did I mention he went blind a few months ago? Totally blind. Can't differentiate color, shape, or texture at all. I don't know how he's kept from falling down the stairs.) So I go up, and sure enough, on top, just beside the red polka dotted snowsuit we force Jacob to wear (it's a girl's suit, but hey, everyone needs therapy for something, right?) are the coveted red sweats. And the grey ones. Oh, and look, the blue and yellow ones... "Ohhhhhh!" He says, "You mean *there*! OK!" (At least he's positive and upbeat about his disability. I guess that's something.)
I check on John. He's wearing James' church pants and (this is priceless) one of Jacob's pullover shirts! John is a solid size six. This thing is a size 18 mos. I don't know how he got in it, let alone didn't notice that it wasn't what you'd call "comfy"! The sleeves didn't even come to his elbows and the arms below the sleeve were turning blue. The body barely covered his chest, so his Buddha belly stuck out in all its glory! ROFLOL! So we got that sorted out. "Honey, sometimes the clothes get put on the wrong color hangers, but you can usually tell if it's a mistake." He laughed, "No, this was on a red hanger (one of Jacob's)! *giggle*" Yes, he's actually a very bright child. Usually.
Meanwhile, Smidge is halfway up the stairs and irate about something...
I just typed the whole thing with Jacob draped over me like a stole, refusing to go see the brothers. I finally gave him a lollipop to get him off me and he headed straight up the stairs to show the brothers. That was the last lollipop... Is this intuitive on their part???
You know what? We're watching a movie and eating chocolate until two. I am not even going to attempt math under these conditions!
And you know, we didn't do math. We didn't do Latin. We read Time Quest and Old Granny Fox. We played several games of Chinese Checkers. We identified birds and fixed supper together.
I took a lot of deep breaths. They got to run around and be silly, wonderful little boys. We had a snow day in honor of the ice rink on our back lawn. We had a really great day. The moral of the story is... well, I don't know what the moral is. I just know that today I was reminded that a day that starts off less-than-perfect can still end up as a wonderful day together, if you'll let it.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy