June 3, 2010

Brownies and Barrettes

It's been one of those days.  The kind where it's 9:30 at night and I'm sitting at the kitchen table engaged in too many open tabs on the Internet while emotionally eating a very large, mediocre mint layer brownie.  It's not even that good, but after this day I somehow feel like it's justified.  (Which could would explain those last few pounds of baby weight that just won't seem to go away.)  And yet, now that I've owned and admitted it, I'm fully contemplating a second slightly less large, mediocre mint layer brownie.

I digress.  This day wasn't all that unusual, but yet somehow I feel like I have to document it.  All you stay-home-mom readers are fully allowed to roll your eyes and shake your heads at me.  I can already hear you thinking, "Get over it.  That's the life."  And yet I still find myself laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all.  And wanting to write about it just to be able to laugh at the life.


It started out as a fairly average day in the Nielson household.  I am so blessed that Tim's job allows him to leave for work later than a lot of other husbands I know.  This provides numerous blessings- mostly for me!  When I'm disciplined enough, I get time with the Lord first thing in the morning.  I go for a run.  When I'm really lucky (ie: get up early enough to squeeze in all 3 activities), I can even get a shower afterwards.  And my wonderful husband graciously gets the kids up and going on breakfast while I'm busy with all those things. 


So that's how the day started.  It went downhill shortly thereafter.  Tim left for work.  The  20 month old I was watching for the day showed up next.  All is well so far.  Managing 4 kids 4 and under.  No problem.  I'm super mom.  I've got it under control.  HA!


I fed Phoebe at about 10:30 while the kids were down in the playroom.  She's a pretty speedy eater, so I was fairly convinced she'd be done before they found themselves in too much trouble.  Does Noah wearing a dress count as trouble? (Maybe this would be a good time to read my previous post about Noah needing a brother.)  I was glad that Tim wasn't home to witness it, but I almost considered it worth it to pay the $10 fee our phone carrier charges for picture messages. Noah was SO proud to be playing dress up princess with Sophia!  




Lunch time.  Sophia and Noah were downstairs playing in the playroom.  Phoebe was sleeping.  Noelle was wandering around behind me in the kitchen.  This was actually a very good thing because I was confident with the fact that she was right there where I could keep an eye on her.  Then I realized:  I am used to a house full of kids, but I have forgotten that my kids have gotten older.  They've passed toddler stage.  They are oh-so-mature preschoolers now.  I realized this when I ingeniously put the drinks on the table first.  Wouldn't have thought anything of it- until Noelle climbed into Noah's chair which she had already claimed for her own and dumped Sophia's entire glass of water all over herself.  Hel-lo brainiac, note to self: do not put drinks on the table first with a toddler roaming around.  Duh.


This was a minor fiasco, I know.  I finished the assembly line of lunch plates.  (After a million internal questions of how to feed a 20 month old.  I had forgotten.  Completely.  What can she eat?  What is she not allowed to have at this stage?  What is too hard for her to chew?  How small do the bites need to be?  Does she get a plate?  Fork?  Spoon?  What does she need to drink?)  I rounded all the kids up and got them seated.  We even remembered to pray- I think.  At this point, Noah is in his third dress of the day.  


Our landlord pulled up.  Interruption number one.  (Are you counting yet?  If not, you should be!)  What a perfect time for him to bring someone to investigate our roof.  It's needed replacing for YEARS.  It appears now's the time. ( Well, not quite. They'll start work next week.)  Noah promptly tells Brian, "I am wearing a DRESS!"  I don't bother to mention to Brian that this is not standard procedure in the Nielson house.  After a brief conversation with Brian, I returned my attention to the kids at the table.  Thankfully they were at least contained.  Time to replace the aforementioned drink that was now all over Noelle's shirt instead of in Sophia's cup.  Noelle, apparently does not use a spoon?  As evidenced by the fact that her macaroni and cheese is all over her chair and the floor.  So I took the spoon away, quickly to realize maybe the problem wasn't the spoon.  It seems Noelle prefers her food on the floor, rather than in her mouth.  Sophia and Noah needed seconds.  Phoebe's waking up.  Who says moms need to eat lunch?  The 3 kids at the table finished lunch and ran back to the playroom.  I got Phoebe up.  Brian came back.  We chit-chatted it up for awhile- really, I had nothing else to do, right?  


The kids, who had been in the playroom, had migrated to the street out front.  Oh, I mean yard out front.  (Really, I was able to stop them before they got to the street.  They only made it as far as the sidewalk.)  Thankfully, Brian understood this cue and used it as a chance to exit the conversation.  


Nap time.  This was a carefully orchestrated dance of finding bedrooms and beds and pack and plays and sheets and blankets and lovies.  Finally.  4 kids sleeping.  Simultaneously.  For 15 minutes, if I was lucky.  Again, who says moms need lunch?  It's a forgotten pleasure at this point, as we're closer to dinner time than lunch.


Did I mention that this is a Wednesday and Tim is working late?  Oh lordy, if ever there was a day that I could use some back up relief!  Before dinner time, I did manage to convince Sophia and Noah that they needed to let me rest for a few minutes if they wanted dinner tonight.  I took a 15 minute power nap on the couch while they played, then went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.  (And when I say prepare, I mean take out a few carrots and warm up some leftover pizza.)  The kids come the table.  Noah's dress is long gone.  It's been replaced by about 24 of Sophia's barrettes in his hair.  No lie. They've moved from princess dress up to beauty shop in one day!  Lord, can I trouble you for a brother for Noah? 




After dinner, I finally convinced the kids that beauty shop is much better to play with girl's hair.  So by the time you've made it to the end of this sentence, I'm sure you already figured out who the next victim was.  Doesn't every mother at some point proudly sport her kid's hair-do?  Since I had no intentions of leaving the house for the night, I figured I was safe.  Until we're reading bedtime Bible stories and the door bell rings.  An unannounced visitor at 8:00 pm?  Really?  Are you kidding me?  After a few moments of panic, I decided I was in absolutely NO condition to answer the door.  I am not exaggerating to say that I had every single one of Sophia's barrettes on my head.  After sweetly explaining to Sophia and Noah that bedtime stories and prayers were more important than whoever was at the door at the moment, I tucked them safely into bed.  "Good night.  I love you.  Sleep tight.  Don't let the bedbugs bite."  Times 3- the ritual isn't complete until we've all said it.  


Ah, sweet relief.  Finally.  Maybe I shouldn't mention the TWO trips back into the bedroom to (forcefully) "remind" Noah that there is NO talking and playing at bedtime.


Maybe my mediocre mint-layer brownie(s) were well deserved after all?





3 comments:

Heidi said...

Whew! Have a brownie for ME, girl!! :)

And, hey, Tim grew up around all girls and he turned out all right!

Katie said...

Had me laughing throughout this awesome post! Love the pic of Sophia and Noah! :) He makes one adorable little Missy.

Unknown said...

What a GREAT post Amy! You are super mom! I felt like I was in your house as I read it!

Related Posts with Thumbnails