I woke up feeling like I had only slept half the night. You know the feeling: headache, tired eyes, bad vision, grouchiness. I couldn't focus on anything, and so all day I only completed half of anything I started -- half the patio swept, the laundry put in the washer but not the dryer, the dishwasher unloaded but not re-loaded, half a thought to cleaning the bathroom. The kids did their chores in the morning but by bedtime it looked like a herd of wild pigs had rampaged through the house. Blankets were up in the living room to make clubs and forts, the dishes were dirty and all over the counters, the dining room carpet covered in crumbs and the table littered with dishes and papers. It was one of those days where you just shut your eyes to the mess and go to bed, too tired to care.
I attempted to pump up the tire on my bike so I could put the little boys in the bike car and take them to the park for lunch. After futilely working the hand pump for a very long time (during which the catfood-stealing birds got used to me and continued their thievery right under my nose) I gave up and we drove to the park.
I have never seen the park that crowded before. Sure, the school district gives out free lunches to anyone up to the age of 18 and so it's always crowded at lunchtime, but I couldn't even find a parking spot. I joined the stuck car waltz with a few other frustrated moms, trying to get around each other and also spot an elusive empty space. I finally found one, waited with my blinker on for the departing car to move out of the way, and just as I was about to park, these two teenage kids glided in smooth as you please. I'm afraid I leaned on the horn and shouted long and loud. Fortunately, the window was up and I didn't swear. Unfortunately, when I stopped yelling, the kids were all silently looking at me with big eyes. Oops. I apologized for that little display of temper. It isn't like they aren't used to me yelling; they just aren't used to me yelling at perfect strangers. Had I been yelling, "Get ready for bed right now or you're in big dog doo-doo!" or "If one more person yells my name like it's my fault, I will scream!" they would have been in more familiar territory.
I told the kids that I have changed my name. Now if they are going to yell for me in order to tattle on a sibling, my name is,"I was teasing him/her so it's my fault!" and if I don't answer right away they can then yell, "I deserve the whacking I got, I apologize and I won't do it again!" Those are the only two names I'll answer to. They are a little unconventional in their length, but I'm willing to buck convention in this instance.
Anyway, I finally did find a parking space, we had lunch, and Child Six crawled around to his heart's content. Child Five rolled down a grassy hill and had wonderful time, but when we got home I noticed that his eczema had spread up his legs to his trunk, arms and even his cheeks. I had forgotten he's allergic to grass, too. Still, even with the weather suddenly changing and blowing in a cold storm, we had fun.
I read an entire book in the afternoon. That's how motivated I was to get housework done.
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