24

Oh. My. Stars. Mom said this while she was visiting and I had thought it before, but after the last 24 hours the sentiment has been confirmed: This job is absolutely the best form of Birth Control one could find. The kids aren’t little terrors by any means, but 3 kids is A LOT to handle. Mom, I don’t know how you did it. I respect you tremendously. I will debrief:

The Mom left at 1:30 yesterday, at which time I promptly but them down for a nap. I wanted these kids to sleep for as long as possible on my watch. When they all awoke at 3:00 they first asked for a snack and then asked the question that would end up tormenting me until the Grandma came to relieve me today: “What do we do now?” Maybe I’m not remembering my childhood quite right but I feel that my sisters and I entertained ourselves a great deal. I understand that I am there to play and interact with them. But, when you have all three of them looking at you waiting for you to propose the most fabulous and exciting idea, it’s easy to be at a loss. And, sometimes I just can’t handle playtime. The Mom had thoughtfully left me with an army supply of arts and crafts we could destroy, er, use. After exhausting that option I decided to haul them outside to the playground. I discovered that the house adjacent to the area owns about 18 cats and uses it as their own private litter box. Needless to say we all needed a Germ Blasting afterward. Upon returning home I “rewarded” them with a movie. The kids are ga-ga for movies; their eyes glaze over and they become catatonic when the TV is turned on. It’s actually kind of a strange sight. The dinner that followed was uneventful and the kids were in bed at a decent hour with no complaints–the Mom trained them like a pro. They turn into little zombies and head straight to bed. Unfortunately, I cannot say I was anything like this growing up. Sorry Mom and Dad.

The sound of children’s laughter can be sweet, I believe. That same sound, quickly transformed into shrieks and quarreling at 6:12 in the morning does not have the same effect. Yes, that is when my day started. After breakfast and cartoons (what else do you do on Saturdays?) it was apparent that I would need to supply them with entertainment. Apparently they are incapable of finding things to do on their own. The two oldest fight all. the. time. Seriously, you can’t put them together. I put my mind in motion and came up with the most brilliant idea. I would take them on a bus/train ride to take up about an hour and half of the morning. Let the record show this was NOT a good idea. I know that should have occurred to me, but I blame the fact my coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. We stopped between trains rides to play on a playground (minus fecal matter) and fed ducks in Zurich Lake, which was the highlight of the trip. After we trained home we found out that the bus didn’t come for another 30 minutes and we would have to walk home. This is not a bad walk alone, but with three tired and hungry kids–one who has to be carried– it is not pleasant. The last remaining hour and a half before the Grandma came passed without difficulty. I think the kiddos could tell I had just about had it with them. I guess I hadn’t spent so much concentrated time with kids before. Usually I can escape to my room after 5 hours of work and relax. Not so this time. It just never stops.

The Grandma arrived right on time and I treated myself to a long run on the treadmill to eliminate the tension. The rest of the weekend is mine and I could not be happier. I know Mother’s Day is a ways away, but Mom, I am so grateful for you. You are amazing. It will be a loooong time before any munchkins of my own appear on this Earth.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s