But here is the rest of the story....
One week into summer and we are surviving, but some of us are going crazy. Guess who?
Today was a long day that involved lots of downtime (not always my favorite kind of day). The kids played outside and the boys wrestled, they watched a couple shows and the boys wrestled, they read their library books and the boys wrestled. Are you getting the theme? What is so great about wrestling, boys?
Their father taught them to tap out, I guess it is some sort of wrestling move like a surrender. So they will hold each other down until they tag out. My boys will beat the crap out of each other and then get mad at me for separating them. Telling me, "he didn't tap out!" This is something I do not understand at all. I found myself yelling "I will not feel sorry for you when you get hurt." That doesn't seem like something the person in charge is supposed to say.
Lucy, the only other girl in the house stays out of the fray for the most part. But every now and then she can't help herself and will pile on with the boys.
Today she and JT spent a lot of time playing make believe.
(One of the good things about having a lot of kids is that when two aren't getting along you can switch them up. Peyton and JT are sick of each other, I just tell JT and Lucy to go play. It works out quite nicely. My friends who have two children and say they fight all the time, I tell them the answer is to have another child!)
All this downtime was good for the kids, but it made me crazy. As we were hurrying to get ready for a baseball game there was a storm brewing....and not just outside. I could feel myself starting to lose it. I fed the kids dinner, got everyone ready, checked weather.com a thousand times hoping the game would be canceled due to the impending storms. No call. So, I crammed the kids in the minivan and headed to the game.
The air was unstable. The traffic was bad. The kids were picking on each other. A storm was coming.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the field it started to rain a bit. I was meeting my husband at the field and he wasn't there yet. Did I mention the minivan's air conditioning is broken? The rain was starting to come in the windows so put them up. It was hot and getting hotter. The air was heavy. The baby started to cry. Lucy had to go to the bathroom. JT was worried about the possible lightning. My pulse was getting faster and faster. A storm was coming.
I sent my son off to sit with his team and wait for further instructions from the coach. The rain came down harder. Just then I see a white Knight pulling into the parking lot...I had never been so glad to see the custom van until it passed us. As much as that mini-bus can zip it did right on past us. I called my husband and asked why he wasn't parking by us and he said "you parked too far away." I hung up. Not mature, but necessary.
It had been 20 minutes, but I felt like I had been on a tarmac in one of those planes with no air, no food and screaming babies! I couldn't take it anymore!
I cursed my husband. I cursed baseball. I cursed the fact that someone's ego was a little too big to drive the air conditioned custom van.
I was tapping out. I was surrendering. Giving up. Crying uncle. I was done.
The game was finally cancelled due to weather. We all went home and I put on a movie for the kids gave them loads of popcorn and lemonade and checked out.
One week in and we are surviving.
I love it Angela! A storm brews in our house more than I would like to admit!
ReplyDeleteIt's so nice to know we are not alone, although I suspect you're a better mom since you didn't say Uncle until the evening... I think I've called Uncle before breakfast some days... oh I bet those are the days i report to my part-time job at "you know where"... just kidding - LOL!!!
ReplyDeleteLOVE YOUR BLOG - Keep up the great stories and inspiration