Wednesday, September 3, 2008

And it is only 8:07 am

Wow, it has been busy today. Even more busy than our usual busy-ness, and that is saying a LOT. I started off early- 5:03, to be exact, when I had a scary dream that woke me up out of my slumber. I dreamed that Abigail had gone to a friends house and had been hurt there. It was scary enough that there was no way I could go back to sleep. I said something to Kydon, and his response was priceless: "Yeah, they drive you crazy during the day, then you can't sleep at night because you worry about them". So true. So very, very true.

Since I knew there was no hope of going back to sleep, and I realized that it was September 3rd, and I hadn't paid either of our mortgage payments yet, I figured I would use my early morning bonus time to go down and pay the bills. That is always a great way to start the morning- first stress about your child being hurt while out of your immediate influence, then stress about more bills than there is money.

So, while we usually start our day around 6:30/7:00, of course when they saw the lights all on downstairs, the kids came down ready to play instead of crawling in bed to snuggle for a few minutes. Kydon made pancakes for breakfast, and we compiled a list of food we need to get today- flour, eggs, milk, you know, the basics that we never have enough of. So I start picturing a grocery store trip, and how I will work that out, and meanwhile empty the dishwasher, then go to start some laundry.

Laundry. That could be a post all on its own. Our fun cabin (which really was fun), didn't provide sheets or towels or blankets, so we brought our own. 5 sets of sheets, 5 blankets, and 3 towels (the kids share- I didn't want to bring any more than we really, really needed), all of which need to be washed upon coming home. Not to mention all the clothes we went through, and just all the 'normal' laundry that we do every day. So when I go to start the next load, in the hope that one day this week I will be able to see the floor of the laundry room, I realize that Abigail had stopped the previous load from drying all the way, which in the South is a HUGE, COLOSSAL big deal. Especially when living with Kydon, who has the smell sense of a pregnant woman. You see, if your clothes/sheets/blankets/whatever doesn't get all the way dry, and sits for a few hours, it will smell like mildew. FOREVER. Unless you work really hard and get the smell out. So I start that load over, with all the extra 'get out the stink' additives.

Then we continue on with our breakfast. Of course, with 3 kids who want to DO IT ALL BY MYSELF when pouring syrup and milk, and demand HELP MEEEEEE when it comes to putting the pancake on the fork and getting it to their mouth. Ok, a few clothing changes, 2 tantrums, and 4 cleaned up spills later, breakfast is over. Time for baths.

Jack and Aidan in the tub, all clean, happily playing with their Monster Trucks. I decide to multi-task a little, and let them play. So I go in Abigail's room to clean up, because sometime between last night and this morning, it seems that every bin has been dumped and scattered. I get it partially cleaned, and check on the boys. Who have abandoned the monster trucks in favor of the play sauce pans, which work really well to scoop up all the bath water and dump it on the floor. I get them out immediately, and make them get towels and clean up the mess. Which is WAY more work than doing it myself, let me tell you. Once it is clean, Abigail gets in the tub (not without throwing a fit that she has not had enough time to PLAY). I wash her, and let her play while I get the boys dressed and teeth brushed. Then Abigail out, and negotiate the clothing, and brush her teeth. Then back downstairs, for more laundry change over (and now adding in the soaking wet towels and rugs from the clean up), socks and shoes, and get myself ready.

Except that Jack had to go potty. Which normally is fine, but this time he decided to lock the door. And he couldn't get out. And was screaming and freaking out, and was way too panicked to listen to my instructions of how to unlock the door. And then I noticed the water starting to seep out from under the door, which explained his freak-out, and started one of my own. I ran upstairs to get the little key to unlock the door, then race back down to unlock it. Upon opening the door, I am greeted with a scared, half naked, and slightly dirty little boy, who is crying and upset, and just needs his mommy to hold him, and comfort him, and (yuck). Also an overflowing toilet, overflowing onto my once beautiful hardwood floors. And no towels in sight. So I ignore the sad boy for the moment, and rush back upstairs to get towels (and I can't help but think of ANOTHER load of laundry that will need to be done). I mop it up the best I can, then get Jack cleaned up, new clothes, and a blankey on the couch. I go back and clean up the bathroom some more, then we have an impromptu lesson about how much toilet paper is appropriate to use, and what to do if more is needed. Then I look at the clock, and it is 8:07 am.


I am tired. Already.

Still to do: Get all the shoes and socks, get myself dressed and ready, negotiate and referee to get all that done, and have us all out the door by 8:30 to get Abigail to preschool. Workout, get to the grocery store, make lunch, clean up, make dinner, clean up, carve some private time with Abigail to talk about stranger danger, and alleviate my fear from my dream, etc. etc.

I feel like I work and work and rush around all day long, but nothing ever gets accomplished. You know, like a hamster running around a wheel. I used to do a fraction of the work I do now, and I would actually make progress with things. Because at the end of the day today, if I work really hard, and keep up with everything, the kitchen will be in order, the bathrooms won't be any dirtier than they were this morning, with towels and rugs that are clean and dry, much the same as they were when we woke up. Nothing will have *improved*. I can only hope to maintain, I have given up any and all hope of progress.

Such is life with 3 young children. And even when it is rough, I am so glad to have them. Jack and Aidan, knowing that I was mad about them flooding the bathroom, proceeded to sing me little songs and give me hugs and kisses until I really did feel better. Abigail demanding more time to play, because she loves all the little princess dolls and polly pockets that we have given her, and will play for HOURS with them. It is hard, and frustrating, and crazy, but even in the wild moments, there are glimpses of joy and harmony and all of us getting through this life together. What a blessing!


Adam and Lisa said...

Oh, Shanna! I am sorry about the whole mess you have! I know I feel very frustrated a lot of times too because it seems like I work tirelessly and at the end of the day, everything is exactly the same. And I don't even have kids messing it up!! I can only imagine....

Rebecca said...

Oh Shanna!! I know exactly how you feel. I really really do. I hope everyone naps for you today (do J & A still nap?) and you get to have some time to recharge.

Shanna said...

Aw, sadly, we are pretty much out of the napping phase. But preschool has become my 'recharge' time!

Colleen said...

I'll tell you what Shanna, I'll take a nap for you!

Rhonda said...

I can just say DITTO. Three little demanding children makes for some crazy days. But I wouldn't trade them for anything.

Astarte said...

Ohhhh, self-syruping. Ugh. That's just beyond the call of duty, there.

ali said...


I'm told that we'll be able to make progress when our youngest is 6 or 7...

The Clanton Gang said...

white vinegar takes away that stinky didn't-make-it-to-the-dryer-in-time smell right away. Just rewash with a cup or so or vinegar and everything smells as good as new. I'm horrible at leaving the last load in the washer and finding it a couple of days later. This works like a charm!

Sue said... WHAT a morning! This is what is so great about writing this stuff down - you will never remember exactly what was so exasperating, and in a few years, it will be all about the comedy and not the tragedy. (At least, I hope so!)

Thank God for preschool, huh?

And you must share the secret "get the stink out" additives... we have the same problem here (our dryer usually takes 2 cycles to dry the choke-loads I stick in there and I don't always remember to start the 2nd one right away) and my husband also has the bionic nose.