Every night I take a deep breath and decide that tomorrow I'm going to be fun. I'm going to be more patient and more interested in what my kids want to talk about.
Last night I didn't get any sleep cause I was coughing all night. Ugh.
I finally got some restful and relaxing sleep starting around 6 am. Honey had to leave for work, so he woke me up to say goodbye. I can't really complain about that tho, cause if he'd left without saying goodbye, it might have hurt my feelings a little. The phone rings. It's WellsFargo. I don't answer. Then, because the door was left unlocked, the 3 year old comes and gets into bed with me and starts asking me questions, and trying to find the best place to lay down. I should relish these moments right? Except I just wanted a little more sleep.
Next, I could hear the 7 year old and the 9 year old running around, yelling, arguing, thumping, pounding, building sky scrapers...I don't know WHAT they were doing, but it was anything but conducive to another hour of sleep. So - I have to get up. Puppy needs to pee and if I don't carry her from the bed to the door, she'll stop somewhere in between and pee in my house. The phone is ringing again and it's WellsFargo. Again. I still don't answer. Surgical patient doggy needs to be let out of her crate and carefully carried downstairs to the door, out into the fresh snow, down the steps and allowed to potty without any running or extra activity. So before I even have a chance to go potty myself or even really open my eyes, I'm standing out in the snow, getting wet and cold.
I'm still trying to be patient. Okay?
Back in the house. Surgical doggy goes in her confined place (to protect her from herself) and she starts barking. The kids are all telling me at the same time what they all want for breakfast and they all want something different. Sugar toast. Jimmy Dean frozen breakfast sandwich. Eggo waffles. (So much nutrition, right?) The 9 year old gets his own sandwich from the freezer, but I know he's left an empty box behind and I have to tell him 3 different ways to get him to go back into the garage to the freezer to throw it out. The 7 year old is flying around the family room and kitchen like he's on speed. The 3 year old is picking on the dog. The phone rings for the 3rd time. It's WellsFargo again. This time - I answer. And boy, do I answer.
Because they're WellsFargo, they won't tell me anything. They have to talk to Honey. Cause he's like, the man. You know? Wives don't count as equal partners. They've been calling our house for several days. I ask if there's a serious problem. She says it's an 'important banking matter.' I tell her I'll be happy to have him call if it's a big deal, but if they're calling to sell something they better stop calling my house. She says they aren't selling anything. I say ok and hang up. I hatehatehate WellsFargo. Long story.
So where do you think all that self-talk about patience has gone now? Are you kidding me? They kids are all now sitting at the island in the kitchen eating their three different breakfasts and they start in about playing in the snow, wanting peanut butter, having friends over, blah blaaaah BLAHHHH!
I'm breathing you guyz. I'm taking it slow. I calmly told them they could have friends over tomorrow IF they help clean the house today. I managed to finally use the potty and get my orange juice. I'm sitting here typing this out so I can breath for a few minutes. Now I'm going to the store by myself to get some stuff for the chicken for dinner tonight. Don't worry. I'll come back home. This time.
(JUST KIDDING!!! GEEEZZZ!)
I do not appreciate fall break.