It started out simple enough.
It's Saturday morning, which means soccer games and catching up on laundry, or at least restarting the dryer to take it out later.
I wake up, see a chance to earn brownie points with the hubs and let him sleep in AND bring him breakfast in bed.Yeah, I'm cool like that! I let the dog out and get the younger boys up and make breakfast. Corbin (the oldest) had a sleepover at a friends, so I pick him up at 9:30, generously thank the amazing hostess for taking on my son and 4 others overnight--boy is she brave! I forgot to pack his game day uniform so he gets dressed in the car and we head over to the field. Corbin, Lincoln (the baby) and I arrive to find our field being used as a practice space for 3 other teams. I use my calm voice and get them to clear out. Meanwhile my husband is across town coaching Orion's game. I proceed to watch, blah blah blah....The day and its usual stresses happen. It averages out to 3 soccer games, 5 meltdowns by Orion (the middle), 2 soccer injuries to the face (both Corbin), 2 stern talks about hitting brothers, lunch, snacks because no one ate their lunch, getting a run in, super short nap, working on the car, cleaning the house, dinner. And then that's it, That's when it happens.
It starts to get darker outside...The monsters are coming out.
I planned just right to be getting in the shower while the boys play video games and the hubs watches his beloved Michigan State game. But something happens. Someone miss-stepped. The stars did not align.
The bigs are screaming. Someone is crying. Dinner goes uneaten. Scott gets a phone call that keeps him from the game and from hearing the chaos going down.
I separate the video-playing big boys and figure out no one has eaten. Then amidst me serving dinner, Orion (whose belly hurts) gets in the tub and Lincoln is hitting his naked butt, which of course causes more hitting and crying. The basket of bath toys gets dumped so it's like dodging land-mines and a giant cup (we all have that cup) to wash hair gets filled up (I'm guessing at least twice) and dumped all over the floor. Butts are spanked but this time by me. And Lincoln is off throwing a fit. Little did I know he was also taking off all his clothes AND DIRTY DIAPER! The dog finds it, shreds it, and gives me another dirty job to do.
I swap one kid for another in the bath. Try not to cry. Mop the floor with a towel and pick up the land mines. More fighting has erupted and Scott is shouting about credit card fraud. I turn a corner to find the diaper mess along with dirty clothes, food dragged out of the pantry and left behind and other random nonsense that every mother picks up without really seeing.
I get all the boys set up in my bed with popcorn (Screw it, I'll change the sheets later.) and walk into the kitchen for a drink. I grabbed the wine bottle and corkscrew the same moment the cat hops up on the table her food sits on (the dog eats it otherwise) and she bumps the bowl, it goes flying. Cat food is everywhere.
I tell Scott, "Really?! I tag out. This is all you." and he resists. All I had to do was pull out that breakfast in bed/sleeping in business from earlier. Boom ladies. That's how it's done.
It's Saturday morning, which means soccer games and catching up on laundry, or at least restarting the dryer to take it out later.
I wake up, see a chance to earn brownie points with the hubs and let him sleep in AND bring him breakfast in bed.Yeah, I'm cool like that! I let the dog out and get the younger boys up and make breakfast. Corbin (the oldest) had a sleepover at a friends, so I pick him up at 9:30, generously thank the amazing hostess for taking on my son and 4 others overnight--boy is she brave! I forgot to pack his game day uniform so he gets dressed in the car and we head over to the field. Corbin, Lincoln (the baby) and I arrive to find our field being used as a practice space for 3 other teams. I use my calm voice and get them to clear out. Meanwhile my husband is across town coaching Orion's game. I proceed to watch, blah blah blah....The day and its usual stresses happen. It averages out to 3 soccer games, 5 meltdowns by Orion (the middle), 2 soccer injuries to the face (both Corbin), 2 stern talks about hitting brothers, lunch, snacks because no one ate their lunch, getting a run in, super short nap, working on the car, cleaning the house, dinner. And then that's it, That's when it happens.
It starts to get darker outside...The monsters are coming out.
I planned just right to be getting in the shower while the boys play video games and the hubs watches his beloved Michigan State game. But something happens. Someone miss-stepped. The stars did not align.
The bigs are screaming. Someone is crying. Dinner goes uneaten. Scott gets a phone call that keeps him from the game and from hearing the chaos going down.
I separate the video-playing big boys and figure out no one has eaten. Then amidst me serving dinner, Orion (whose belly hurts) gets in the tub and Lincoln is hitting his naked butt, which of course causes more hitting and crying. The basket of bath toys gets dumped so it's like dodging land-mines and a giant cup (we all have that cup) to wash hair gets filled up (I'm guessing at least twice) and dumped all over the floor. Butts are spanked but this time by me. And Lincoln is off throwing a fit. Little did I know he was also taking off all his clothes AND DIRTY DIAPER! The dog finds it, shreds it, and gives me another dirty job to do.
I swap one kid for another in the bath. Try not to cry. Mop the floor with a towel and pick up the land mines. More fighting has erupted and Scott is shouting about credit card fraud. I turn a corner to find the diaper mess along with dirty clothes, food dragged out of the pantry and left behind and other random nonsense that every mother picks up without really seeing.
I get all the boys set up in my bed with popcorn (Screw it, I'll change the sheets later.) and walk into the kitchen for a drink. I grabbed the wine bottle and corkscrew the same moment the cat hops up on the table her food sits on (the dog eats it otherwise) and she bumps the bowl, it goes flying. Cat food is everywhere.
I tell Scott, "Really?! I tag out. This is all you." and he resists. All I had to do was pull out that breakfast in bed/sleeping in business from earlier. Boom ladies. That's how it's done.
Yes we all have 'that' cup and the best part was 'the monsters are coming'. loved this!!
ReplyDelete