There is just something going on this week. It is just the week from Hell. And yes, it’s only mid-day Wednesday.
I don’t know what it is, but the kids are all off the chain this week. I run a co-op playgroup at one of the prestigious colleges here in The North (don’t get excited, I don’t get paid and I wasn’t vetted for the job or anything), and it was a very small showing this week. However, the handful of kids and parents who came this week felt totally out of control! Lots of screaming and chaos. Lots of toy throwing. Lots of running around instead of singing during circle time. It was like whoa. And don’t get me started about how Craft Mom didn’t show up and didn’t bother to tell anyone. The only good news was that the super judgmental nanny who has decided that she hates me and has a gnarly attitude wasn’t in this week. The rest of the bad news was there were two new families that came for a try-out session on Monday. One was great, the other, not so much. Both, however, were like “this is going to be a great fit. We really want to join!” …If you are a mom who watches your kid not play with other kids and pretty much scream through all of the activities from craft to circle to playtime, how are you going to decide that this is the best activity for your child? Especially when it put off all of the other children? I know that we are all looking for something to do with our children, but come on.
I think that both of my sons are having growth spurts. Lots of hiccups, big appetites, bigger attitudes, tantrums on the train, and the nap schedule is all sorts of off. I have been managing the best I can, and have actually been delighted and diligent about putting them down for a nap a good half-hour early. The sporadic needs and spontaneous tantrums are not conducive to a productive day around the house. Especially because Ursa Minor’s solution to all the world’s problems is to be held by mommy. It’s mighty hard to get dinner rolling one-handed. It’s slightly easier when he’s in the Moby Wrap (thank you, Jesus, for Moby Wrap), but then it’s like cooking while pregnant all over again (with the added fear of anything splashing on or hitting precious baby’s head).
By the way, big thanks to the lovely little old ladies on the train who decided to give me disapproving stares as I tried to soothe my angry toddler on the train on Monday. You were totally helpful, especially with making me comfortable in my own skin. That was really awesome of you. I hope those future hip replacements or whatever little old ladies need in life really work out for you.
On Monday night, The Husband’s best friend came over after flying into town just back from his 5 week pan-Asian vacation. Ah, life with no kids, no spouse and a ridiculously fat paycheck. What do you serve a man who has just spent 5 weeks in Asia, you ask? Why, fajitas and rice and beans and fried plantains, of course! So I spend my evening juggling 2 kids and making this meal and what do I hear when our good friend hits the house? “Don’t be offended if I don’t eat much. I had a huge lunch at [local taco franchise] and I’m still kinda full.” ………….not offended at all, bro. Not offended at all…….. So the kids didn’t eat until 7 on Monday night, we didn’t start the bath process until 8. Then Best Friend stayed until 10. If that man wasn’t the godfather of Ursa Minor, I swear I would have done something semi-violent toward his person.
Ursa Major has learned the new game of “I make a request and mommy goes and gets it. But then when she gets it, I decide I don’t want it.” It’s a cool game. Generally, it’s something easy, like water in a sippy cup. Sometimes, it’s really annoying, like a half-peeled banana that suddenly he doesn’t want and I have to scramble to preserve for the next meal. Or a bowl of cheerios, which he really just wants to deposit all over the floor. The best part about the cheerios is, when I try to feed them to Ursa Minor, all of a sudden he is ravenously hungry and must eat all of the cheerios right now. Charming.
And did I mention my in-laws are driving up and occupying my life on Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon? That means the house needs to be clean.
Is the house clean?
And every time I make a little progress on the house, one of the Ursa brothers puts something on my floor or puts a toy somewhere or hits the other brother and causes much crying and gnashing of teeth.
I smothered my sorrows with a philly cheesesteak and fries for lunch, negating all of the good work with Zumba that I’ve been doing for the last few weeks. But it felt good, if temporary, and that’s what matters.
And now, instead mopping bathroom floors like a good and diligent mom, I’m going to get in bed with my book. And hopefully fall asleep and get a nap in myself!