We woke up (yes “we”- they migrated during the night) this morning to a phone call from Eric. That is always nice, but it happened to be a rare occasion where Hannah was still sacked at 6:30 and Jake might have been cajoled into playing quietly in his room for 15-20 minutes. The phone rang and we were up!
After chatting with Daddy, getting breakfast, spilling milk, spilling Kix, taking someone else’s Kix, having a time out, deciding on a cut up apple instead – no wait, make that pancakes…we make it into the living room to “play” for a bit while I attempt to fold the 37 loads of laundry that have piled up that stubbornly refuse to fold themselves!
I say attempt to fold for a reason. Hannah loves to “help” with the laundry. It is pretty funny to watch as she lays out a kitchen towel just so, making sure the corners are all straight, then she rolls them up real fast into a crumpled ball and piles it on the other folded towels. Then we get the excitement of the sheets. Basically she sits on the floor with a sheet on her head and I sing a rousing rendition of “Where is Hannah!? Where is Hannah!? I don’t know… I don’t know”. And of course not to be out done by little sister, Jacob abandons whatever he is doing to take the sheet off of Hannah and put it on himself, much to her dismay. Now we are breaking up kid quarrel #2, 30 minutes into our day.
Clothes eventually got folded, workout was worked out, more kid quarrels ensued. I take a shower and get dressed-only to find Hannah needs a DESPERATE diaper change and thank goodness I didn’t take the time to shave my legs or she would have had it EVERYWHERE. Pooptastrophy averted.
We pack a picnic lunch to enjoy at the playground before preschool. I use the term “enjoy” loosely. Both minions sat at the counter while I made their lunches.
Me: “Hannah, do you want peanut butter and jelly?”
Hannah: Nodding, “Yes!”
Me: “Jacob, just peanut butter, no jelly, right?”
Okay… So sandwiches made, string cheeses, cantaloupe, cucumber slices from our garden, homemade ranch dip in the cute little containers, some pretzels and off to the park we go. We open our lunch boxes to eat after playing for a bit.
Jake: Whining and picking at the sandwich “I don’t like peanut butter!”
I felt like cracking my skull on a brick wall. Long story long, he ate 4 big bites, and ate the rest of his lunch so I’m gonna count that as a win.
Drop him off at preschool and off Hannah and I go to the grocery to grab just a couple of quick items and then head home. Hannah is crying that she wants to go the playland (the genius play area at the grocery store where they watch your kids for an hour while you shop!) Okay, I think – she gets to play, I’ll pick up the 3 things we need and we’ll be on our way.
Not so much. As soon as I lifted her out of the cart she cried that she didn’t want to go. No biggie. Back in the cart, we’ll do the shopping together. She THEN cries THROUGH THE ENTIRE STORE that she wants to go back to playland.
Again the desire to crack my head on a hard surface arises.
We finally make it home, I get her now hiccuping, crying self laid down for a nap, and I have to wake her up 30 minutes later to pick Jake up from preschool. When I put her in the car, she wakes up and without missing a beat, starts crying yet again for the grocery playland.
More cracking of head thoughts.
Upon arrival to pick him up, Jake is happily playing trains. I ask him if he is ready to go after chatting with the teachers a bit. One of the teachers gets down next to him and says “Are you ready to go Alligator?”
He responds by blowing bubbles at her and states loudly “don’t call me that!”
Can I just die now? I really don’t know when I’ve ever been more proud. Then after collecting all his art projects from the day that have all of a sudden been scattered on the floor, he heads for the door around the corner. I have Hannah on my hip, still wigging out about the grocery store, picking up papers all over, while simultaneously attempting to respond to someone’s question. Papers now collected, I round the corner to see Jake in full melt down mode, being held away from the door by the preschool director.
I instantly feel sorry for her. I get down and attempt (unsuccessfully) to get him out of his tantrum, not to mention the middle of the door way. Other parents are trying to get through. Can you say hot mess? With Hannah still on one hip, I bend down and hoist Jake on my other. (Have I mentioned I grow HUGE KIDS? Good thing I work out!)
By the time we make it to the car, all three of us are in tears.
It is now 8pm. The kids are bathed, tucked in bed and sleeping soundly. My house (completely destroyed this morning) is now back in order and I am having a beer and toasting (aka, fervently praying) that tomorrow will be better than today.