Why do my kids wake up so early? Its still dark out. They are tired. Don't they need sleep?
The worst part is that they wake up and they are already wide awake. No, the worst part is that the idea of being quiet because others are sleeping is not something that they understand or care to understand.
5:30 am
Holden:
MOMMMMY? WHAT DOES A MONGOOSE EAT?
Um... I have no idea. Its dark out. I can only look up the eating habits of the mongoose when its light out.
OH. Well, Paddington was so cute and he licked my hand and I think he is hungry and maybe I could feed him now . Should I give him the blue plate or the white plate? But Oliver wants to feed Chloe, but thats not fair because he got to the other day. When I was on the playground I fell but I didn't cry and on the other day it was PE day , but how come I always have to scooter to school when I wanted to ride my bike?
I don't know, please go back to sleep.
OK, but I really wanted to be with someone.
Mmmm.
Silence. Then I hear crashing and giggling and stomping and the sound of herds of antelope running from danger. Holden has woken Laurel and Griffin.
Holden? Did you wake the babies?
No, they were awake but I just needed to be with them.
Laurel:
MOMMY? DADDY? I WANT BREAKFAST. BREEEEAAAAKKKKFFFAAASSSSTTT. I HUNGRY. Hey mommy? HEY MOMMY! I want miiiiilllllk, mommy. I WANT MILK. MOMMY! DADDY! I WANT MIIILLLLLKKKK.
Oliver:
NEED GET DRESSED. NEED MIGHTY BITES. NEED BLUE PANTS. NEED LETTER SHIRT. EHHEH, EHEHH, EHHEHHH, AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH
Griffin:
Hiiiiiii. Hi mommy. Hiiii daddy. Hi Ho'den, Hi O'ber. Hiiiiiii.
OK, I guess everyone is up.
All right guys, mommy and daddy need coffee.
Griffin:
I want coffee mommy. I want coffee.
Well, I guess I'm ready to start another joy filled day.
Why is there a piece of chewed on pizza next to my side of the bed?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Carrots
The other day the kids decided they were starving. Absolutely starving . We had ordered pizza and were waiting for it to arrive. But the kids could not wait. So I gave them baby carrots. If they are so completely ravenous that they can't wait for pizza then wrecking their dinner with carrots is OK by me.
Holden likes carrots, but he was at soccer practice. Oliver, Laurel and Griffin aren't big fans of carrots.
But, to prove just how famished they'd become they ate some carrots. Well, actually they chewed on some carrots. I ate a few to demonstrate just how delicious and fabulous carrots are, and how much fun it was to eat them.
Laurel was very entertained by this show of enthusiasm. She wasn't inspired to eat any carrots, but she did want to feed some to me since clearly I enjoyed them very much. So she'd run over to the table, grab a few and try to stuff them in my mouth.
I obligingly ate a few. Until she shoved a warm one in my mouth. Oh good god, why was it warm?
Holden likes carrots, but he was at soccer practice. Oliver, Laurel and Griffin aren't big fans of carrots.
But, to prove just how famished they'd become they ate some carrots. Well, actually they chewed on some carrots. I ate a few to demonstrate just how delicious and fabulous carrots are, and how much fun it was to eat them.
Laurel was very entertained by this show of enthusiasm. She wasn't inspired to eat any carrots, but she did want to feed some to me since clearly I enjoyed them very much. So she'd run over to the table, grab a few and try to stuff them in my mouth.
I obligingly ate a few. Until she shoved a warm one in my mouth. Oh good god, why was it warm?
Friday, September 26, 2008
Happy Halloween
I know I shouldn't spend time on Facebook, and Instant Messenger, and all of the other online places where I whittle away the hours. These online hideaways are my way of checking out for a little while, take a break from the chaos.
So yesterday I happily chatted with friends, found some faces from the past on Facebook. It was fun. I ignored the silence. The silence. Not the chaos. I ignored the silence.
You'd think I'd catch on. There should NEVER be silence in this house.
Oliver walked through the room. He was green.
Oliver isn't supposed to be green.
I went into the playroom. Green permanent fabric marker. On their clothes, on their faces, they'd given themselves manicures and pedicures, it was on the rug. Did I mention these are permanent fabric paint pens?
Oliver surveyed his green toes, looked up at me and happily said " Happy Halloween".
Happy Halloween, honey.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
How Did You Sleep?
What is it that is so fun about complaining? There can be something cathartic in it. Yet it can also spiral out of control. Especially if you don't hear yourself. We're all guilty of it. Some more than others.
You know whats coming, don't you Jeff?
Take my loving husband for example. I have learned not to answer his innocuous seeming questions.
Were you warm enough last night?
Seems innocent enough, right? Nope. Not innocent. If I say yes...
Of course you were, you had all the covers.
If I say I was cold...
You were cold, I was freezing.
Another seemingly innocent question:
Did you sleep well?
OK, that one is not as seemingly innocent. There is a question that is generally loaded. Whenever anyone asks if you slept well you know its an intro into how well they did not sleep.
So if I say yes, I did in fact sleep well...
I don't know how you didn't hear the kids, they were up every hour, I got no sleep.
If I say no, I was up with the kids...
Yeah, I heard you get up that one time and then I had to get up every 20 minutes and you didn't hear a thing. I'm glad one of us got some sleep.
I've finally learned the importance of beating him to it.
Did you sleep well?
Well, no one slept as poorly as me. You slept right through it when the ice pick wielding lunatic barged in and nicked out my right eye. But I didn't complain because I didn't want to wake you.
And you, how did you sleep?
You know whats coming, don't you Jeff?
Take my loving husband for example. I have learned not to answer his innocuous seeming questions.
Were you warm enough last night?
Seems innocent enough, right? Nope. Not innocent. If I say yes...
Of course you were, you had all the covers.
If I say I was cold...
You were cold, I was freezing.
Another seemingly innocent question:
Did you sleep well?
OK, that one is not as seemingly innocent. There is a question that is generally loaded. Whenever anyone asks if you slept well you know its an intro into how well they did not sleep.
So if I say yes, I did in fact sleep well...
I don't know how you didn't hear the kids, they were up every hour, I got no sleep.
If I say no, I was up with the kids...
Yeah, I heard you get up that one time and then I had to get up every 20 minutes and you didn't hear a thing. I'm glad one of us got some sleep.
I've finally learned the importance of beating him to it.
Did you sleep well?
Well, no one slept as poorly as me. You slept right through it when the ice pick wielding lunatic barged in and nicked out my right eye. But I didn't complain because I didn't want to wake you.
And you, how did you sleep?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
If the Vet Says its OK
I haven't been using my crutches as I'd like to think I've put this whole thing behind me. The novelty has worn off and in my opinion I'm done. I'm cured now. Its over. Time to get back to walking around like a regular person.
Unfortunately my Dr. does not share my enthusiasm. I'm stuck with this stupid shoe for another week. I did get my stitches out. But I thought I was going to impress him with my great mobility and ability to heal myself in 2 easy weeks. But no, he said I have to keep icing it and keep this horrible shoe. I am however, done with the crutches if I don't want them. I don't.
I quickly figured out that I can't carry anything and use crutches. So I decided I'd give them up. I like carrying things. I like getting things done. Sitting around isn't really my thing.
Holden has been asking daily if the vet said I get to keep the crutches when I'm done with them.
I don't go to a vet.
Sure, if I thought it would save time and money I'd try out a vet. But as it turns out , insurance covered this surgery so I just went with a regular old Dr.
So my Dr, or vet as Holden refers to him, confirmed that I am finished with the crutches and , best news of all, I get to keep them. So the crutches have been lowered to the lowest notch of all and the kids get to play surgery.
What could be better than that?
Unfortunately my Dr. does not share my enthusiasm. I'm stuck with this stupid shoe for another week. I did get my stitches out. But I thought I was going to impress him with my great mobility and ability to heal myself in 2 easy weeks. But no, he said I have to keep icing it and keep this horrible shoe. I am however, done with the crutches if I don't want them. I don't.
I quickly figured out that I can't carry anything and use crutches. So I decided I'd give them up. I like carrying things. I like getting things done. Sitting around isn't really my thing.
Holden has been asking daily if the vet said I get to keep the crutches when I'm done with them.
I don't go to a vet.
Sure, if I thought it would save time and money I'd try out a vet. But as it turns out , insurance covered this surgery so I just went with a regular old Dr.
So my Dr, or vet as Holden refers to him, confirmed that I am finished with the crutches and , best news of all, I get to keep them. So the crutches have been lowered to the lowest notch of all and the kids get to play surgery.
What could be better than that?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wartimus
It hasn't gone away. My son's gross wart has not gone away. I'm not a big fan of warts. I'm not sure if many people are fans of warts. I'm sure there are some people out there that are intrigued by them. People that like gross foot related things. Podiatrists.
Anyway, it hasn't gone away.
It makes me gag.
We tried some over the counter stuff that didn't work at all. Or rather I bought some over the counter stuff and Jeff put it on him. ( See above - the part where I said warts make me gag). Nothing happened. He has a gross wart. The pediatrician had told us to try putting duct tape on it. I have no idea how that was supposed to work but we tried it. Why would putting duct tape on it work? What would that do? Maybe hide it so I wouldn't gag? But I hadn't asked advise about how to refrain from gagging, I'd asked about getting rid of the wart. I gave up on the pediatrician and the helpful duct tape suggestions. I gave up on the ineffective sludge Jeff basted on my son's wart which seemed to accomplish nothing.
We took him to my podiatrist. I thought he'd burn the wart off. He didn't. He said he no longer liked to do that with kids. It was just too stressful trying to keep them still while they shrieked in horror.
I was half thankful there would be no wart burning. I had wanted the wart gone . ( Again, reference above where I stated warts make me gag). But I also knew that of all my children this would be the child to react the most to the idea of searing flesh. There was also the issue that I had all four kids with me at this appointment.
I had brought raisins and puffed corn. A lot of raisins and puffed corn. But the question, as always, was how long can a food bribe last.
There was no way a triple stroller would travel through the narrow corridors to the patient rooms. Everyone would be free. Free to allow chaos to reign. Four small children in an office filled with gnarled footed patients. Gross.
DO NOT EAT ANYTHING OFF OF THIS FLOOR!
Its not so much that I was afraid of germs. I was afraid of.. ack! foot residue. OMG, I'm gagging just thinking about it. Gross.. feet...eeeew.
There was a lot of complaining and griping about raisins and lack thereof and who had more and who needed some and who took whose raisins but I was able to have the DR look at Holden's gross wart. He said that he'd had great luck with Tagamint/Tagamen something like that. An oral medication. Three times daily for 6 weeks , plus a topical solution. Sounds easy enough. He took a look at the wart while Holden screamed, imagining that something painful might be happening. The DR explained that THIS is why he prefers Tagamen or whatever its called. I had the office call in the Rx for me.
I just love Walgreen's drive through.
Holden wants to know if he gets to have whatever he wants for dinner.
Because you have a wart? I ask incredulously.
Yes, he tentatively answers, less sure he'll get the presents and chocolate and cake and balloons he'd hoped for.
No.
When we got home I explained that his wart was so big that we had to name him Wartimus. Wartimus had an identity large enough to warrant a name. Holden wasn't sure if he was being made fun of at first. But eventually took on the idea of Wartimus.
We all have to remember to feed Wartimus three times a day. Wartimus has to have his topical solution once a day, after the bath. Wartimus knows this medicine will make him go away so he protests, often in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jeff's.
Slowly but surely Wartimus is losing his place in this family.
He won't be missed.
Anyway, it hasn't gone away.
It makes me gag.
We tried some over the counter stuff that didn't work at all. Or rather I bought some over the counter stuff and Jeff put it on him. ( See above - the part where I said warts make me gag). Nothing happened. He has a gross wart. The pediatrician had told us to try putting duct tape on it. I have no idea how that was supposed to work but we tried it. Why would putting duct tape on it work? What would that do? Maybe hide it so I wouldn't gag? But I hadn't asked advise about how to refrain from gagging, I'd asked about getting rid of the wart. I gave up on the pediatrician and the helpful duct tape suggestions. I gave up on the ineffective sludge Jeff basted on my son's wart which seemed to accomplish nothing.
We took him to my podiatrist. I thought he'd burn the wart off. He didn't. He said he no longer liked to do that with kids. It was just too stressful trying to keep them still while they shrieked in horror.
I was half thankful there would be no wart burning. I had wanted the wart gone . ( Again, reference above where I stated warts make me gag). But I also knew that of all my children this would be the child to react the most to the idea of searing flesh. There was also the issue that I had all four kids with me at this appointment.
I had brought raisins and puffed corn. A lot of raisins and puffed corn. But the question, as always, was how long can a food bribe last.
There was no way a triple stroller would travel through the narrow corridors to the patient rooms. Everyone would be free. Free to allow chaos to reign. Four small children in an office filled with gnarled footed patients. Gross.
DO NOT EAT ANYTHING OFF OF THIS FLOOR!
Its not so much that I was afraid of germs. I was afraid of.. ack! foot residue. OMG, I'm gagging just thinking about it. Gross.. feet...eeeew.
There was a lot of complaining and griping about raisins and lack thereof and who had more and who needed some and who took whose raisins but I was able to have the DR look at Holden's gross wart. He said that he'd had great luck with Tagamint/Tagamen something like that. An oral medication. Three times daily for 6 weeks , plus a topical solution. Sounds easy enough. He took a look at the wart while Holden screamed, imagining that something painful might be happening. The DR explained that THIS is why he prefers Tagamen or whatever its called. I had the office call in the Rx for me.
I just love Walgreen's drive through.
Holden wants to know if he gets to have whatever he wants for dinner.
Because you have a wart? I ask incredulously.
Yes, he tentatively answers, less sure he'll get the presents and chocolate and cake and balloons he'd hoped for.
No.
When we got home I explained that his wart was so big that we had to name him Wartimus. Wartimus had an identity large enough to warrant a name. Holden wasn't sure if he was being made fun of at first. But eventually took on the idea of Wartimus.
We all have to remember to feed Wartimus three times a day. Wartimus has to have his topical solution once a day, after the bath. Wartimus knows this medicine will make him go away so he protests, often in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jeff's.
Slowly but surely Wartimus is losing his place in this family.
He won't be missed.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Out of the Mouths of Babes
I think the spawn of the Devil lives at my house.
The innocent sweet trembling little kitten we rescued from the crazy cat woman is anything but sweet. If he is trembling its only because he possesses the great power of the underworld.
Every time I try to use the laptop he pounces. His sharp teeth tear at my flesh, he bounds over the keyboard and attacks the screen. He bounds over my bandaged foot. He attacks my crutches. He claws me with his extra claws.
At first I pitied the small beast and quasi affectionately referred to him as the Beast of Pontypandy. The reference is lost on anyone who has limited knowledge of Welsh rescue heroes. ( Fireman Sam is on TIVO, under PBS Kids).
I've come to realize that Paddington simply cannot be compared to an innocently disguised pet sheep. Rather he is truly a beast.
Paddington has a problem with biting. He play bites but his sharp little baby teeth are sinking too deep, cutting too hard. I tried covering his nose when he bit. I've tried blowing in his face. The kids find the latter technique highly amusing, but thats about all its good for.
Paddington is the spawn of the Devil. You can't blow in the face of evil personified and expect it to work. Evil isn't afraid of expressed breath.
Paddington's evil energy knows no bounds. He always has the energy to tear through the house, tearing and clawing at anything and anyone in his path. Of course thats generally me. He wriggles his tiny bottom and attacks, those little teeth sink into my hand, my arm , my leg. Any part of me that has moved or twitched is prey. Prey for the beast.
As I wonder how I'll deal with this wretched creature he collapses into a small pile of contented purring black fur. He curls under the bend of my knee, the crook of my arm, he reaches a surprisingly small and gentle paw and dabs at my face, his eyes full of innocent love , and he falls asleep. The epitome of the sweet and loving kitten, rescued and grateful.
Then he awakens.
He begins his reign of terror once again. He bites , he claws, he stampedes over my body. He pounces on my arms , he hops over my bandaged foot, and he bites. Hard.
I suspect he drinks the blood of goats while we sleep.
Griffin asked where Paddington was this afternoon.
I don't know honey, probably drinking goats blood.
Oh. Pad'ton d'wink goat.
Yes Honey, thats right.
Out of the mouths of babes...
The innocent sweet trembling little kitten we rescued from the crazy cat woman is anything but sweet. If he is trembling its only because he possesses the great power of the underworld.
Every time I try to use the laptop he pounces. His sharp teeth tear at my flesh, he bounds over the keyboard and attacks the screen. He bounds over my bandaged foot. He attacks my crutches. He claws me with his extra claws.
At first I pitied the small beast and quasi affectionately referred to him as the Beast of Pontypandy. The reference is lost on anyone who has limited knowledge of Welsh rescue heroes. ( Fireman Sam is on TIVO, under PBS Kids).
I've come to realize that Paddington simply cannot be compared to an innocently disguised pet sheep. Rather he is truly a beast.
Paddington has a problem with biting. He play bites but his sharp little baby teeth are sinking too deep, cutting too hard. I tried covering his nose when he bit. I've tried blowing in his face. The kids find the latter technique highly amusing, but thats about all its good for.
Paddington is the spawn of the Devil. You can't blow in the face of evil personified and expect it to work. Evil isn't afraid of expressed breath.
Paddington's evil energy knows no bounds. He always has the energy to tear through the house, tearing and clawing at anything and anyone in his path. Of course thats generally me. He wriggles his tiny bottom and attacks, those little teeth sink into my hand, my arm , my leg. Any part of me that has moved or twitched is prey. Prey for the beast.
As I wonder how I'll deal with this wretched creature he collapses into a small pile of contented purring black fur. He curls under the bend of my knee, the crook of my arm, he reaches a surprisingly small and gentle paw and dabs at my face, his eyes full of innocent love , and he falls asleep. The epitome of the sweet and loving kitten, rescued and grateful.
Then he awakens.
He begins his reign of terror once again. He bites , he claws, he stampedes over my body. He pounces on my arms , he hops over my bandaged foot, and he bites. Hard.
I suspect he drinks the blood of goats while we sleep.
Griffin asked where Paddington was this afternoon.
I don't know honey, probably drinking goats blood.
Oh. Pad'ton d'wink goat.
Yes Honey, thats right.
Out of the mouths of babes...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Living the Good Life
My mom volunteered to come out and help after I'd had surgery. This was before our east coast trip. After spending time with the kids there was no more mention of help.
Suddenly her schedule was very busy. There was just no way she could come out right now, she informed me angrily, as though I'd suggested it in the first place. ( I hadn't).
OK , so Jeff will take some time off and then I'll mysteriously find a way to hobble through. I mean, what choice do we have?
So I had the surgery. She called two days ago and left a message. I called back today.
You've had the surgery, She informed me.
Yes.
And its all fine.
Well, I'm on crutches, my foot is broken and there is a pin in my foot, but yes, it went well.
Did they give you drugs?
Yes, Vicodin.
But you don't need that. Its fine if you just keep it up.
Actually I've had a few.
Oh so you're fine.
In the background her new husband asks if I need them to come out.
My mom collapses into nervous laughter. Why thats the funniest thing she has ever heard. Help her? Because she had surgery and has four kids? Oh ha ha ha. We're so busy ourselves, we have to get new passport photos and we're traveling for the weekend and we are landscaping and now there are 3 waterfalls on the property. What with all the workers arriving, why we are so busy...
I hear her new husband say I could come there and they could take care of me.
I would never do that.
Even if I wanted to do that I couldn't because I can't fly for several months after this surgery.
My mom guffawed again. Imagine them taking care of me just because I'd had surgery . Ha ha ha, a hilarious notion.
She couldn't possibly help. She has waterfalls to attend to and European trips to plan.
She asked where the kids were. I said Jeff had taken them swimming.
Oh so you are having a break! Oh how nice of him!
a break? A BREAK? Yes, this is a fantastic break.
I don't have a bedroom. We gave it up so the kids could have a playroom. Our bed is next to the dryer , just off of the kitchen. It does make the house better during the day. The kids have room to take out a game and play if they want. I don't regret it. I like the town we live in. I like the people. I like the schools. I like the friends my kids have made. I like the friends we've made. I wouldn't want to give it all up just to move to a bigger house in a less desirable area. We're OK.
But when surgery which requires me to use crutches is dismissed as some sort of vacation, and my mom can't help because she has waterfalls to attend to , and I get emailed " Greetings from Istanbul!" then I feel annoyed.
Greetings from next to the dryer. Its hot here too.
Suddenly her schedule was very busy. There was just no way she could come out right now, she informed me angrily, as though I'd suggested it in the first place. ( I hadn't).
OK , so Jeff will take some time off and then I'll mysteriously find a way to hobble through. I mean, what choice do we have?
So I had the surgery. She called two days ago and left a message. I called back today.
You've had the surgery, She informed me.
Yes.
And its all fine.
Well, I'm on crutches, my foot is broken and there is a pin in my foot, but yes, it went well.
Did they give you drugs?
Yes, Vicodin.
But you don't need that. Its fine if you just keep it up.
Actually I've had a few.
Oh so you're fine.
In the background her new husband asks if I need them to come out.
My mom collapses into nervous laughter. Why thats the funniest thing she has ever heard. Help her? Because she had surgery and has four kids? Oh ha ha ha. We're so busy ourselves, we have to get new passport photos and we're traveling for the weekend and we are landscaping and now there are 3 waterfalls on the property. What with all the workers arriving, why we are so busy...
I hear her new husband say I could come there and they could take care of me.
I would never do that.
Even if I wanted to do that I couldn't because I can't fly for several months after this surgery.
My mom guffawed again. Imagine them taking care of me just because I'd had surgery . Ha ha ha, a hilarious notion.
She couldn't possibly help. She has waterfalls to attend to and European trips to plan.
She asked where the kids were. I said Jeff had taken them swimming.
Oh so you are having a break! Oh how nice of him!
a break? A BREAK? Yes, this is a fantastic break.
I don't have a bedroom. We gave it up so the kids could have a playroom. Our bed is next to the dryer , just off of the kitchen. It does make the house better during the day. The kids have room to take out a game and play if they want. I don't regret it. I like the town we live in. I like the people. I like the schools. I like the friends my kids have made. I like the friends we've made. I wouldn't want to give it all up just to move to a bigger house in a less desirable area. We're OK.
But when surgery which requires me to use crutches is dismissed as some sort of vacation, and my mom can't help because she has waterfalls to attend to , and I get emailed " Greetings from Istanbul!" then I feel annoyed.
Greetings from next to the dryer. Its hot here too.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Looking Forward to Anesthesia
I'm having surgery tomorrow. I have to leave the house around 5:15 am. My plan was to get the house organized, dishes done, laundry done and put away, general organization. My plan was of course thwarted. Repeatedly.
I couldn't finish doing or putting away laundry this morning because Griffin wouldn't nap. He preferred to flail around moaning and whining and opening cabinets and making piles of clothing and toys. He fell asleep right before Oliver's bus arrived, at which point I needed to wake him to get Holden. Everyone needed to poop and lose their shoes and have misgivings about their final shoe choices, but eventually we were on our way and we retrieved Holden...late.
Then we came home and had a snack which included letter crackers. So everyone fought over which letter they had.
After Laurel spilled her milk, which she does at every meal, I set them free and put on Grammar Rock, even though Oliver is the only one that really likes it. Squeaky wheel gets the grease. Then I thought I'd make dinner.
So I chopped and prepared while Laurel wedged herself under my bed in hot pursuit of a cat. Laurel got another scratch. People say kids learn from stuff like that, but she doesn't. She screamed and yelled and needed her night night ( pacifier) and her dolly ( lump of dirty rag vaguely resembling a doll). Two minutes later she was fine and back to chasing the cat.
I went back to preparing dinner. Suddenly I realized it was quiet. Very very quiet for a house with four kids.
Holden? Can you give me an update on everyone?
OK. Whats an update?
Its when you tell me what everyone is doing.
OK. [silence]
Oh um.. they are all in the bathroom playing with toothpaste and Oliver is pooping.
Can you take the toothpaste away from them?
Yes! [ what 6 year old doesn't love a power trip?]
Blood curdling screech. I guess I better see for myself.
Toothpaste everywhere. Several tubes of it. Smeared on the wall, floor, each other. No wonder it was quiet. Oliver was in a state of distress because he had used the last of the toilet paper and clearly had needed more. So Oliver needed a bath. Right away.
So I filled the tub for the boy that hates to bathe. I squirted some shampoo into the tub to make bubbles. He was intrigued by this idea. He wanted to squirt some in. So he did. I scrubbed him down and then he was ready for pajamas. Rocket ship pajamas. Fortunately rocket ship pajamas were clean.
Laurel saw that Oliver had pajamas so she needed pajamas. RIGHT THAT VERY SECOND. So she got pajamas.
I checked on dinner. Not done.
I went to set the table and found that Griffin had discovered a tub of applesauce from someones lunchbox and had helped himself. Oh good, a little extra cleaning before dinner.
I went to give a quick second glance to the bathroom, to make sure I hadn't missed any toothpaste or poop. Paddington had peed on the bathmat. Oh good. More laundry.
Dinner was ready so I called everyone to the table. Oliver glanced at it with disdain. Thats not pasta or hot dogs. Conclusion: inedible. Unfortunately he wasn't too far off. It was good, if you are an adult and like spicy foods, but I'd made it too spicy for the kids. Apple sauce and yogurt for dinner. Glad I went to the effort. Ugh.
After the failed dinner I tried to keep going with the laundry. I attempted to put away more clothing, fold some sheets.
MOMMMYYY ACK! HELP! MOOMMMMMMYYYY OHHH NOOOO ACCCCKKKKKKK!
Laurel was having some sort of crisis.
what Laurel? I managed to ask disinterestedly.
MOMMMMMY HELP ACK MOMMMMY ARGH MOMMMMY
O..M...G...
Globs of poop on her toe, on her hand, on her face. Um.. what happened?
Holden knew what happened. Laurel had chased Paddington when he was in his litter box. So he'd run out mid poop, and in her exuberance and glee she had run right through the lumps of wet poop he'd left in his frightened wake.
So I ran another bath, and scrubbed down another stinky kid ,and put in another load of stinky laundry.
Then I brushed their teeth and put them in bed.
Now I can look forward to my relaxing evening of packing school lunches and finishing 10,000 loads of laundry.
I am so looking forward to that anesthesia.
I couldn't finish doing or putting away laundry this morning because Griffin wouldn't nap. He preferred to flail around moaning and whining and opening cabinets and making piles of clothing and toys. He fell asleep right before Oliver's bus arrived, at which point I needed to wake him to get Holden. Everyone needed to poop and lose their shoes and have misgivings about their final shoe choices, but eventually we were on our way and we retrieved Holden...late.
Then we came home and had a snack which included letter crackers. So everyone fought over which letter they had.
After Laurel spilled her milk, which she does at every meal, I set them free and put on Grammar Rock, even though Oliver is the only one that really likes it. Squeaky wheel gets the grease. Then I thought I'd make dinner.
So I chopped and prepared while Laurel wedged herself under my bed in hot pursuit of a cat. Laurel got another scratch. People say kids learn from stuff like that, but she doesn't. She screamed and yelled and needed her night night ( pacifier) and her dolly ( lump of dirty rag vaguely resembling a doll). Two minutes later she was fine and back to chasing the cat.
I went back to preparing dinner. Suddenly I realized it was quiet. Very very quiet for a house with four kids.
Holden? Can you give me an update on everyone?
OK. Whats an update?
Its when you tell me what everyone is doing.
OK. [silence]
Oh um.. they are all in the bathroom playing with toothpaste and Oliver is pooping.
Can you take the toothpaste away from them?
Yes! [ what 6 year old doesn't love a power trip?]
Blood curdling screech. I guess I better see for myself.
Toothpaste everywhere. Several tubes of it. Smeared on the wall, floor, each other. No wonder it was quiet. Oliver was in a state of distress because he had used the last of the toilet paper and clearly had needed more. So Oliver needed a bath. Right away.
So I filled the tub for the boy that hates to bathe. I squirted some shampoo into the tub to make bubbles. He was intrigued by this idea. He wanted to squirt some in. So he did. I scrubbed him down and then he was ready for pajamas. Rocket ship pajamas. Fortunately rocket ship pajamas were clean.
Laurel saw that Oliver had pajamas so she needed pajamas. RIGHT THAT VERY SECOND. So she got pajamas.
I checked on dinner. Not done.
I went to set the table and found that Griffin had discovered a tub of applesauce from someones lunchbox and had helped himself. Oh good, a little extra cleaning before dinner.
I went to give a quick second glance to the bathroom, to make sure I hadn't missed any toothpaste or poop. Paddington had peed on the bathmat. Oh good. More laundry.
Dinner was ready so I called everyone to the table. Oliver glanced at it with disdain. Thats not pasta or hot dogs. Conclusion: inedible. Unfortunately he wasn't too far off. It was good, if you are an adult and like spicy foods, but I'd made it too spicy for the kids. Apple sauce and yogurt for dinner. Glad I went to the effort. Ugh.
After the failed dinner I tried to keep going with the laundry. I attempted to put away more clothing, fold some sheets.
MOMMMYYY ACK! HELP! MOOMMMMMMYYYY OHHH NOOOO ACCCCKKKKKKK!
Laurel was having some sort of crisis.
what Laurel? I managed to ask disinterestedly.
MOMMMMMY HELP ACK MOMMMMY ARGH MOMMMMY
O..M...G...
Globs of poop on her toe, on her hand, on her face. Um.. what happened?
Holden knew what happened. Laurel had chased Paddington when he was in his litter box. So he'd run out mid poop, and in her exuberance and glee she had run right through the lumps of wet poop he'd left in his frightened wake.
So I ran another bath, and scrubbed down another stinky kid ,and put in another load of stinky laundry.
Then I brushed their teeth and put them in bed.
Now I can look forward to my relaxing evening of packing school lunches and finishing 10,000 loads of laundry.
I am so looking forward to that anesthesia.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Cleaning for the Cleaning Lady
Its 9:00 pm and I need to start cleaning for the cleaning lady. What I really want to do is go to bed. But I can't. I've hired someone to help me clean so now I have to clean for her.
We'd had a cleaning person years ago. At first I loved it. I found it a necessity. I didn't know how I'd been able to get along without her.
As time went on she did a worse and worse job. She was very nice. She needed money. But when "I" cleaned I did a far superior job. I move furniture, I roll up rugs, I get into corners and crevices. I REALLY clean. She dusted the main areas. She did a bad job mopping. I paid her to do that. One day I realized that I should not pay someone to do a bad job. Even if the person is nice. Besides, the various therapies needed for special needs kids aren't exactly free. Here we are struggling to make ends meet and I'm paying someone to do a terrible job cleaning. Plus the fact remained that I , in fact, was still doing a lot of cleaning. The majority of our mess is clutter. Kid clutter. Clean laundry doesn't get put away. Toys get dumped and half of them get put away. There is always a stray Lego I can step on in the middle of the night. Those little plastic butterflies that belong in the Elefun box are under every chair and sofa in this house. Rolled up dirty socks end up in toy bins ( not what I meant when I asked someone to put the mess away). Piles of artwork remain on the bench by the front door. Bits of Play Doh are squished into the rug. DVDs are removed from the DVD player and left in scratched batches in the vicinity of the TV. Broken crayons are abandoned on the sofa. Cups are under the sofa. Rejected shirt choices are left crumpled on the floor. Oliver alone uses 10,000 Dixie Cups per day and leaves each cup on the bathroom counter, in a neat line.
So I let the housekeeper go.
For a while I had my routine. Two older boys go to school, twins nap. I vacuum as soon as I put them down, they get lulled to sleep by the vacuum, then I mop. Simple. I'll just do that everyday. It worked for months. But it all fell apart when the twins decided not to nap in the early morning. My routine was ruined. The house fell apart. I tried to pick up with them underfoot but they dumped buckets of toys and fought and fell down and beat on one another. I tried to vacuum but they would pull on the cord and run in front of the vacuum ( aren't toddlers supposed to be afraid of the vacuum?). I tried to mop while they grabbed dishes out of the dishwasher and tried to drink the mop water. Our house got messier and messier. I tried to clean on the weekend. I tried to get Jeff to take the kids outside. 20 minutes doesn't cut it. The floors became more and more disgusting. I became less and less happy.
Holden did not have playdates because I could never get it together to have the house in a state where people might be comfortable allowing their child to play. I didn't want to have to ask if children were updated on their shots prior to a playdate. By the end of the year Holden had about 3 playdates.. and I felt horrible. Had it really been a year of feeling like I couldn't catch up? A year of thinking I'll be able to catch up soon? A year of cleaning while messes were created in my wake? Messes so large and extreme that I couldn't cope?
I emailed around asking about housekeepers. I didn't call any of them. How can we afford a housekeeper on top of therapies etc? But this house makes me miserable.
Finally I called a woman whose name I can't pronounce. We set up a date. I asked her rate but she couldn't say until she saw our house. She arrived on time. I , of course, was late.
I think she was horrified. I'd picked up, or I'd tried to.
At 2:30 pm she started cleaning. I had the kids in the playroom. She was in the kitchen. At 5:30 pm... she was in the kitchen. OK, the kitchen looked amazing, but um... how long would she be here? I started getting nervous about her rate. I asked again , but she still didn't know. OK, a little odd, but whatever.
She moved into the living room. She rolled up the rug. She moved furniture. She did everything that I would have done if I didn't have 4 urchins trailing me.
At 6:00 pm Jeff went out to pick up burritos. We set the table outside. She was still cleaning. The kids ate dinner. They had Popsicles. 2 Popsicles. Jeff asked what her rate was. She didn't know. Jeff surmised that maybe she needed to go into a zen state to figure it out.
At 6:30 we told her to clean the bathroom and call it a day. She never got to the kid's rooms. The price had come to her. Double my ex cleaning person but she'd been here 4x as long. She needed to charge extra for picking up. We always have toys everywhere. She'd charge a little more next time since she'd be doing all of the rooms.
So now I want to get everything put away before she arrives. I don't want that extra mess surcharge we accrued last time. Of course its impossible to get it all put away because " it" doesn't go anywhere. We are crammed into a 1200 sq ft house with 4 kids, 2 cats and the fish.
I secretly resent the fish for taking up more than their share in terms of the footprint of this house when compared to body mass.
Maybe I'll hide everything in the oven.
We'd had a cleaning person years ago. At first I loved it. I found it a necessity. I didn't know how I'd been able to get along without her.
As time went on she did a worse and worse job. She was very nice. She needed money. But when "I" cleaned I did a far superior job. I move furniture, I roll up rugs, I get into corners and crevices. I REALLY clean. She dusted the main areas. She did a bad job mopping. I paid her to do that. One day I realized that I should not pay someone to do a bad job. Even if the person is nice. Besides, the various therapies needed for special needs kids aren't exactly free. Here we are struggling to make ends meet and I'm paying someone to do a terrible job cleaning. Plus the fact remained that I , in fact, was still doing a lot of cleaning. The majority of our mess is clutter. Kid clutter. Clean laundry doesn't get put away. Toys get dumped and half of them get put away. There is always a stray Lego I can step on in the middle of the night. Those little plastic butterflies that belong in the Elefun box are under every chair and sofa in this house. Rolled up dirty socks end up in toy bins ( not what I meant when I asked someone to put the mess away). Piles of artwork remain on the bench by the front door. Bits of Play Doh are squished into the rug. DVDs are removed from the DVD player and left in scratched batches in the vicinity of the TV. Broken crayons are abandoned on the sofa. Cups are under the sofa. Rejected shirt choices are left crumpled on the floor. Oliver alone uses 10,000 Dixie Cups per day and leaves each cup on the bathroom counter, in a neat line.
So I let the housekeeper go.
For a while I had my routine. Two older boys go to school, twins nap. I vacuum as soon as I put them down, they get lulled to sleep by the vacuum, then I mop. Simple. I'll just do that everyday. It worked for months. But it all fell apart when the twins decided not to nap in the early morning. My routine was ruined. The house fell apart. I tried to pick up with them underfoot but they dumped buckets of toys and fought and fell down and beat on one another. I tried to vacuum but they would pull on the cord and run in front of the vacuum ( aren't toddlers supposed to be afraid of the vacuum?). I tried to mop while they grabbed dishes out of the dishwasher and tried to drink the mop water. Our house got messier and messier. I tried to clean on the weekend. I tried to get Jeff to take the kids outside. 20 minutes doesn't cut it. The floors became more and more disgusting. I became less and less happy.
Holden did not have playdates because I could never get it together to have the house in a state where people might be comfortable allowing their child to play. I didn't want to have to ask if children were updated on their shots prior to a playdate. By the end of the year Holden had about 3 playdates.. and I felt horrible. Had it really been a year of feeling like I couldn't catch up? A year of thinking I'll be able to catch up soon? A year of cleaning while messes were created in my wake? Messes so large and extreme that I couldn't cope?
I emailed around asking about housekeepers. I didn't call any of them. How can we afford a housekeeper on top of therapies etc? But this house makes me miserable.
Finally I called a woman whose name I can't pronounce. We set up a date. I asked her rate but she couldn't say until she saw our house. She arrived on time. I , of course, was late.
I think she was horrified. I'd picked up, or I'd tried to.
At 2:30 pm she started cleaning. I had the kids in the playroom. She was in the kitchen. At 5:30 pm... she was in the kitchen. OK, the kitchen looked amazing, but um... how long would she be here? I started getting nervous about her rate. I asked again , but she still didn't know. OK, a little odd, but whatever.
She moved into the living room. She rolled up the rug. She moved furniture. She did everything that I would have done if I didn't have 4 urchins trailing me.
At 6:00 pm Jeff went out to pick up burritos. We set the table outside. She was still cleaning. The kids ate dinner. They had Popsicles. 2 Popsicles. Jeff asked what her rate was. She didn't know. Jeff surmised that maybe she needed to go into a zen state to figure it out.
At 6:30 we told her to clean the bathroom and call it a day. She never got to the kid's rooms. The price had come to her. Double my ex cleaning person but she'd been here 4x as long. She needed to charge extra for picking up. We always have toys everywhere. She'd charge a little more next time since she'd be doing all of the rooms.
So now I want to get everything put away before she arrives. I don't want that extra mess surcharge we accrued last time. Of course its impossible to get it all put away because " it" doesn't go anywhere. We are crammed into a 1200 sq ft house with 4 kids, 2 cats and the fish.
I secretly resent the fish for taking up more than their share in terms of the footprint of this house when compared to body mass.
Maybe I'll hide everything in the oven.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Dinner and a Movie
We did it. We finally braved a movie as a family. We went to see Walle.
The last movie we attempted was Happy Feet. Holden liked it, but as soon as Oliver was finished with his popcorn he was done. We had to split up so Oliver could go home. This time I knew to ask for our money back on the way out. I had no idea that movie theaters would really give your money back if the movie fails with your kid. But if you only make it through previews and then leave they will give you your money back. File that under " Good to Know".
I had not known about that when we tried to take them to see Wallace and Grommit. That was an expensive night at the movies considering we never even saw a movie.
Life with 4, and special needs to boot, generally makes everything complicated. To say the least. I've resigned myself to living life as a shut in. I get used to the isolation. However, every now and again the yearning to witness life as others see it takes over. I lose my mind and think it will be " fun" to have a family adventure. So we risk one.
I had one of those moments on Sunday.
I decided we should try to take the kids to a movie. Holden has been wanting to see Walle forever. People take 2 year olds to movies, Walle should be kid friendly, so Oliver is the lone wild card.
We drove to the theater and I realized way too late that I had not prepped Oliver at all for what was to come. I quickly talked about seeing a movie, watching, the dark theater... and hoped for the best. There was no line which always works out well for us so we got our tickets and went straight for the concession stand. Remembering the popcorn problem with the last movie we opted for the limitless tubs. We got 2 of them because holding the tubs is an issue for everyone.
The theater wasn't very crowded and we settled into our seats. I nervously watched Oliver as the theater began to darken. So far so good. Previews...and we're OK. Popcorn helps everyone. Oliver needed to hold his bucket, but he was fine with sharing.
The animated short began. A Magician and a rabbit. Oliver didn't like it. Oliver didn't like it AT ALL. The magician was scary. He whimpered, he screamed , " oooooh NNNNOOOOOO!"
I whispered that this was not the movie. Walle would start soon. Everything is OK.
" Go home. Odiber need to get in car. Time to go home" Oliver whimpered.
" Its OK, we're going to watch a movie soon. You are OK, you are with mommy". I whispered, hoping to make it until the movie actually began.
Finally the scary magician and his rabbit short ended and Walle began. Hmmm , I didn't realize Walle would be quite so dark. I didn't know there would be quite so many explosions and changes from light to dark.
Oliver sat on my lap, eating popcorn, nervously eyeing the screen. I was nervously eyeing the screen too. I sure hope this gets a little lighter.
Oliver relaxed as Walle found the plant. Oliver likes plants.
Meanwhile Laurel jumped on my lap, off my lap, on her seat, off her seat, tried to eat popcorn off of the floor. She ran down the aisle to be close to Jeff, ran back to me, hopped on me, hopped off of me, hopped onto her seat, giggled. She glanced at the screen to see the cockroach and shrieked " ACK A 'PIDER! OH NO A 'PIDER! YUCKY!"
Each time the animated cockroach appeared the theater was treated to a chorus of " ACK OH NO! A 'PIDER!"
Walle remained full of destruction, desolation, and doom for longer than I'd hoped. Oliver whimpered in his seat.
" All done. Time to go home. Time to get in the car. Goodbye to Walle"
" No, honey, we're watching a movie"
" " Odiber go home. OK, all done"
" No honey, this is Walle. We're watching Walle now"
" Watching Walle."
He wasn't that happy about it, but he did quietly sit back down. The people behind us shushed him. I turned and smiled at them as though I thought they understood. Confusing angry people can be fun.
The inevitable happened. Oliver ran out of popcorn. I braced myself for a show of horror. But it didn't happen.
" Odiber need more popcorn. Odiber need more popcorn please".
I asked Jeff to get the refill ( thank god we got the large free refill tub) since leaving Oliver would be a disaster and taking him with me would indicate to him that we were leaving.
Everyone busied themselves with more popcorn. Laurel thought it was hilarious to stuff as much as she could into her mouth, inevitably dribbling out all of the excess. Then she tried to eat the bits she'd dropped on the floor and screamed when I knocked them back out of her hands. I try to limit the eating off the floor like wild animals to the privacy of our own wild home.
The people behind us made impatient shushing sounds again, but I didn't bother to turn around.
As Walle lightened up a bit Oliver relaxed into his seat a little more. He even started getting involved :
" Oh no, very bad. You say sorry to him".
Meanwhile Griffin and Laurel started getting more and more fidgety. Griffin began slamming his arm rest up and down. Then he realized Laurel was running amok in the row and that sure seemed like a good idea. So Griffin hopped of of his seat and came down to my end of the row. He hopped into Laurel's seat.
Hi Mommy.
Hi Griffin, whisper honey.
whisper: hi mommy
hi griffin
Laurel realized Griffin sat in her seat.
NNNOOOOO! THATS MINE! THATS MY SEAT! LAUREL'S SEAT! MIIIIIINNNNNNEEEEE"
That inspired some more shushing from our fans.
NOOOOOO! DADDY! MOMMY! HELP! MIIIIIIINNNEEEE!
Jeff took Griffin back to his seat
NOOOOO! MOOOOMMMMMMMYY!
More shushing.
Eve came onto the screen.
Laurel lost interest in the seat altercation.
Ooooh, so pretty.
How does she know its a girl robot? What makes Eve pretty and how did a 2 year old recognize this? Is it because Eve is white and therefore clean and female? Walle is dirty and therefore a boy? But this assessment is coming from a girl whose hair often looks like Nick Nolte's in his infamous mug shot.
Interesting.
We made it through the rest of the movie. Holden remained entranced. Oliver was somewhat intrigued, Laurel and Griffin ran amok and annoyed our fellow patrons. But we did it. We made it through a whole movie. Its a first for us! The shushing people didn't share our enthusiasm so lucky for them we didn't ask them to join us for dinner.
We decided to go from the movie to dinner, because if something works why not push it until it fails, right?
So we went from sitting for an hour and a half, to sitting. Great idea. Kids love sitting still. Holden was fine. Oliver was clearly in need of a bribe since he got out of his seat and announced that it was time to leave, before we had even been served water. Griffin screamed and yelled.
I ordered 6 apple juices. Jeff looked at me, clearly wondering why I was ordering 6 when we had 4 kids. Two are emergency back up , I explained before he asked.
The juice arrived and that was yet another highlight for Holden. Movie! Juice! What could happen next?
Oliver guzzled his juice. As he guzzled I topped it off with water to extend the life of the glass. I put 3 straws in his glass which he found hilarious. That kept him entertained all through dinner.
3 straws in one glass! Sooo funny!
We had to get highchairs for Laurel and Griffin. Anyone who is hard gets locked away. Laurel was OK with it. She was happy to plunge her hands into her juice to extract ice cubes. Griffin screamed.
Holden liked the lazy susan on the table. The lazy susan did not stop moving. I started to dislike the lazy susan.
Does anyone want tea? I can give it to you? Does anyone want a spoon? I can give it to you? I can put my straw wrapper on this thing and make it go to you, OK?
Griffin screamed some more. I asked if they had crackers, bread, anything to shut him up. No, they had fortune cookies. Oh what a perfect appetizer. Cookies. They are sure to eat dinner if we start them off with cookies. But I started to care less and less. Fine, eat a fortune cookie. But stop yelling.
Can we have the check with our entrees?
Well, we're never the family that people want to be around but we managed to be in public, as a family for about 3 hours. We didn't have to abort any part of the plan.
Dinner and a movie. We had a family night. I feel sort of proud.
The last movie we attempted was Happy Feet. Holden liked it, but as soon as Oliver was finished with his popcorn he was done. We had to split up so Oliver could go home. This time I knew to ask for our money back on the way out. I had no idea that movie theaters would really give your money back if the movie fails with your kid. But if you only make it through previews and then leave they will give you your money back. File that under " Good to Know".
I had not known about that when we tried to take them to see Wallace and Grommit. That was an expensive night at the movies considering we never even saw a movie.
Life with 4, and special needs to boot, generally makes everything complicated. To say the least. I've resigned myself to living life as a shut in. I get used to the isolation. However, every now and again the yearning to witness life as others see it takes over. I lose my mind and think it will be " fun" to have a family adventure. So we risk one.
I had one of those moments on Sunday.
I decided we should try to take the kids to a movie. Holden has been wanting to see Walle forever. People take 2 year olds to movies, Walle should be kid friendly, so Oliver is the lone wild card.
We drove to the theater and I realized way too late that I had not prepped Oliver at all for what was to come. I quickly talked about seeing a movie, watching, the dark theater... and hoped for the best. There was no line which always works out well for us so we got our tickets and went straight for the concession stand. Remembering the popcorn problem with the last movie we opted for the limitless tubs. We got 2 of them because holding the tubs is an issue for everyone.
The theater wasn't very crowded and we settled into our seats. I nervously watched Oliver as the theater began to darken. So far so good. Previews...and we're OK. Popcorn helps everyone. Oliver needed to hold his bucket, but he was fine with sharing.
The animated short began. A Magician and a rabbit. Oliver didn't like it. Oliver didn't like it AT ALL. The magician was scary. He whimpered, he screamed , " oooooh NNNNOOOOOO!"
I whispered that this was not the movie. Walle would start soon. Everything is OK.
" Go home. Odiber need to get in car. Time to go home" Oliver whimpered.
" Its OK, we're going to watch a movie soon. You are OK, you are with mommy". I whispered, hoping to make it until the movie actually began.
Finally the scary magician and his rabbit short ended and Walle began. Hmmm , I didn't realize Walle would be quite so dark. I didn't know there would be quite so many explosions and changes from light to dark.
Oliver sat on my lap, eating popcorn, nervously eyeing the screen. I was nervously eyeing the screen too. I sure hope this gets a little lighter.
Oliver relaxed as Walle found the plant. Oliver likes plants.
Meanwhile Laurel jumped on my lap, off my lap, on her seat, off her seat, tried to eat popcorn off of the floor. She ran down the aisle to be close to Jeff, ran back to me, hopped on me, hopped off of me, hopped onto her seat, giggled. She glanced at the screen to see the cockroach and shrieked " ACK A 'PIDER! OH NO A 'PIDER! YUCKY!"
Each time the animated cockroach appeared the theater was treated to a chorus of " ACK OH NO! A 'PIDER!"
Walle remained full of destruction, desolation, and doom for longer than I'd hoped. Oliver whimpered in his seat.
" All done. Time to go home. Time to get in the car. Goodbye to Walle"
" No, honey, we're watching a movie"
" " Odiber go home. OK, all done"
" No honey, this is Walle. We're watching Walle now"
" Watching Walle."
He wasn't that happy about it, but he did quietly sit back down. The people behind us shushed him. I turned and smiled at them as though I thought they understood. Confusing angry people can be fun.
The inevitable happened. Oliver ran out of popcorn. I braced myself for a show of horror. But it didn't happen.
" Odiber need more popcorn. Odiber need more popcorn please".
I asked Jeff to get the refill ( thank god we got the large free refill tub) since leaving Oliver would be a disaster and taking him with me would indicate to him that we were leaving.
Everyone busied themselves with more popcorn. Laurel thought it was hilarious to stuff as much as she could into her mouth, inevitably dribbling out all of the excess. Then she tried to eat the bits she'd dropped on the floor and screamed when I knocked them back out of her hands. I try to limit the eating off the floor like wild animals to the privacy of our own wild home.
The people behind us made impatient shushing sounds again, but I didn't bother to turn around.
As Walle lightened up a bit Oliver relaxed into his seat a little more. He even started getting involved :
" Oh no, very bad. You say sorry to him".
Meanwhile Griffin and Laurel started getting more and more fidgety. Griffin began slamming his arm rest up and down. Then he realized Laurel was running amok in the row and that sure seemed like a good idea. So Griffin hopped of of his seat and came down to my end of the row. He hopped into Laurel's seat.
Hi Mommy.
Hi Griffin, whisper honey.
whisper: hi mommy
hi griffin
Laurel realized Griffin sat in her seat.
NNNOOOOO! THATS MINE! THATS MY SEAT! LAUREL'S SEAT! MIIIIIINNNNNNEEEEE"
That inspired some more shushing from our fans.
NOOOOOO! DADDY! MOMMY! HELP! MIIIIIIINNNEEEE!
Jeff took Griffin back to his seat
NOOOOO! MOOOOMMMMMMMYY!
More shushing.
Eve came onto the screen.
Laurel lost interest in the seat altercation.
Ooooh, so pretty.
How does she know its a girl robot? What makes Eve pretty and how did a 2 year old recognize this? Is it because Eve is white and therefore clean and female? Walle is dirty and therefore a boy? But this assessment is coming from a girl whose hair often looks like Nick Nolte's in his infamous mug shot.
Interesting.
We made it through the rest of the movie. Holden remained entranced. Oliver was somewhat intrigued, Laurel and Griffin ran amok and annoyed our fellow patrons. But we did it. We made it through a whole movie. Its a first for us! The shushing people didn't share our enthusiasm so lucky for them we didn't ask them to join us for dinner.
We decided to go from the movie to dinner, because if something works why not push it until it fails, right?
So we went from sitting for an hour and a half, to sitting. Great idea. Kids love sitting still. Holden was fine. Oliver was clearly in need of a bribe since he got out of his seat and announced that it was time to leave, before we had even been served water. Griffin screamed and yelled.
I ordered 6 apple juices. Jeff looked at me, clearly wondering why I was ordering 6 when we had 4 kids. Two are emergency back up , I explained before he asked.
The juice arrived and that was yet another highlight for Holden. Movie! Juice! What could happen next?
Oliver guzzled his juice. As he guzzled I topped it off with water to extend the life of the glass. I put 3 straws in his glass which he found hilarious. That kept him entertained all through dinner.
3 straws in one glass! Sooo funny!
We had to get highchairs for Laurel and Griffin. Anyone who is hard gets locked away. Laurel was OK with it. She was happy to plunge her hands into her juice to extract ice cubes. Griffin screamed.
Holden liked the lazy susan on the table. The lazy susan did not stop moving. I started to dislike the lazy susan.
Does anyone want tea? I can give it to you? Does anyone want a spoon? I can give it to you? I can put my straw wrapper on this thing and make it go to you, OK?
Griffin screamed some more. I asked if they had crackers, bread, anything to shut him up. No, they had fortune cookies. Oh what a perfect appetizer. Cookies. They are sure to eat dinner if we start them off with cookies. But I started to care less and less. Fine, eat a fortune cookie. But stop yelling.
Can we have the check with our entrees?
Well, we're never the family that people want to be around but we managed to be in public, as a family for about 3 hours. We didn't have to abort any part of the plan.
Dinner and a movie. We had a family night. I feel sort of proud.
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