OMG...sick kids...seriously...how does anyone survive???
I guess it would be different if they weren't the same age.
Wouldn't it?
I don't know...they both just want me soooo much! For totally different reasons.
So, while Hailey wants me to watch Super.Why on the couch with her, Matt wants me to play outside with his broom.
When I simply go to check on Matt, Hailey breaks down and stumbles after me with her snot and tears and screams...even though I'm 5 feet away looking out the window. D.r.a.m.a.
When Matt finally comes in, Hailey is starving and can't get into her chair fast enough (even though lunch is far from ready). She's bugging me to get in her chair and Matt wants to throw his lego.s (pieces of Hell) all over the living room...so, Mama decides that the Crazies are going in the basement...sounds ominous, right?
Well, it's not. It's yellow and cheery and filled with lovely toys...because that's how we roll.
The kids play happily down there while I get lunch ready...ahhh...solace. Where is Husband? I want to bitch about my day! Voicemail...tell him to ignore the "I'm going to freak out and kill them" voicemail from ten minutes ago.*
Funny thing...I didn't even close the gate to the basement...if they want to climb up to see me, they can...I'm not really worried...maybe I'm out of my mind from the whining...who knows?
Hailey does come up b/c Matt has terrorized her in some way. She has snot all over her face.
Lunch is ready anyway...clean her up.
"Matt, come upstairs please."
Silence.
"Matt! I made hotdogs! Please come upstairs."
Silence.
I got halfway down the stairs and grunted for his attention. He simply shook his head at me and resumed playing with his blocks.
Great...he's already ignoring me for his toys...awesome!
Somehow he realized that going upstairs for a hotdog** and some milk was better than his blocks and ambled his way upstairs...as I was behind him I realized he pooped. Awesome...
The start of WWIII...the Diaper Battle.
Lunch "conversation": eat up, that's a hotdog, that's a bagel, that's ketchup, that's cottage cheese, don't knock that off your plate, well, what do you expect? if you throw your food on the floor, the dog will eat it, don't throw that, drink your milk, that's a hotdog.
Where is Husband? He usually calls during lunch! Voicemail. God, I feel like a stalker...
Want some fruit? Plums? Okay...cut, cut, encourage. Fail...
Lunch ended up with Matt in timeout for throwing food/sippy (shocker) and Hailey happily pushing all of her plum away.
Matt was out of his mind...then I messed up...I did a huge Mommy mess up. I punished him with a punishment that was the same as the crime (ya know...not snatching from the snatcher, not hitting the hitter, setting a good example kind of shit) rather than sticking to our typical timeout routine. I suck. I was mad at myself. I was mad at the colds. I was just mad. I messed up. It happens.
They wouldn't sit still for anything...not to read a book, to play with pieces of Hell (Lego.s), to sing, nothing!!! I was done...naptime.
Thank God...nothing is better than Naptime!
BTW...I wrote this post just to get it all out...blogging is my free therapy. I would never really "kill" my kids...it's just a phrase. I love my kids...sick or not...more when they're not...haha...what a bitch! Shit! I just realized I forgot to eat lunch...WTF?
* Husband was at a lunch that he swears he told me about, but I completely forgot. Must be nice to go out to lunch...must be even nicer to go to lunch and actually recall details from a conversation and not leave totally exhausted from blocking innocent diners from thrown food, trying to keep a toddler in his/her chair, retrieving numerous sippy cups, and dreading putting said toddler(s) in car seats.
** I'm pretty sure that hotdog is not one word, but I don't give a shit...I've had a rough day!
