The three most dreaded words my children say to me after a night with little shut eye.
Sarah went to bed at 6 pm last night. She was tired and cranky and hard to be around. So I wrapped her up and put her to bed. As a result of her early bedtime, she was up at 6 am. I think my husband dealt with her early, but at about 6:45 am, after her show was finished, she came to me. Poking me in my face and saying, “It’s Up Time.”
Katie, true to form, was up way past her bedtime last night. Not wanting another long, drawn out fight, we made the very bad decision to let her lay in our room and watch a movie. Well, good for us because we did not have the screaming fest while we were trying to watch the football game. But bad because we missed her “window” to put her to bed and she was less than thrilled when she did go to bed.
She was up at 7:15 am, poking me in the face, while I was resting on the couch, saying, “It’s Up Time.”
Megan, having taken a long, late nap yesterday, was up playing and laughing until well past 8 pm. She normally goes to sleep around 7 pm. She blessed me and stayed in bed until 8:30 am. Of course, the fact that she is in baby jail, unable to escape, helps. I roll my tired, achy self off the couch to go rescue her because, if she could talk, she would tell me, “It’s Up Time.”
I find, when getting Megan, that my old dog has pooped in Katie’s room – interesting since she slept at my feet all night – and that Megan has leaked out of her diaper.
A clean carpet, clean hiney, and new sheets later, I put in cinnamon rolls. To the kids protest. They want Goldfish and Pretzels for breakfast. Fine. Whatever. Have at it.
Breakfast consists of cinnamon rolls, pretzels, and goldfish. Coffee for me so far.
I call my mother to wish her a happy birthday, a phone call cut short when I realize that the girls are making a “cake” with water, pretzels, and bananas. On my leather couch.
Just. Great.
Being the stellar mother I am, I move the bowls to the table and tell them have fun. I am too tired to care.
So, two daughters are “bathing” their Disney figurines in a pretzel and banana bath, one daughter is climbing on the train table, balanced precariously, sure to fall and need TLC soon, and I am standing here watching, sipping my coffee, praying to God that this day goes with no major incidents, that my chores get done, and I have a smile on my face after downing another cup of liquid energy.
After knowing, in fact that, “It Is Up Time”.
To say I can relate slightly to this post would be a overwhelming understatement.
Add two sick kids to the mix and it's like you're living my life – just substitute Mountain Dew for coffee.
Ah, the trials and trubulations of being a mommy. I feel for you, I have a 15 month old and a six week old and it feels like my days consist of diaper changing 95 % of the day and the other five percent making sure that my son is not hanging from the ceiling or sticking something into the light socket. On days when I feel like I need a boatful of Xanax i remind myself that they are only young once and then am able to change the diapers and do a mean hokie pokie with my son until he can no longer stand up. When I am on the verge of crazy one smile from my son makes it worth the long nights and lack of sleep…….if only the cleaning fairy would come and wave her wand over my house.