The M Party of Five: Hiding out in my closet...

My den looks like a toy store exploded in it. My kitchen looks like, well, let’s just say the dishes need to be done. My laundry is piled to the ceiling. Madison hasn’t slept in three nights (neither have I). Molli got tubes in her ears yesterday. Madison went to the doctor this morning (she has a sinus infection). Morgan’s stomach hurts. Tim has a sore throat. And I just sat on the floor in my closet (with the door closed and the bathroom door closed and the bedroom door closed) and ate a cookies and cream ice cream bar (at least it was Weight Watchers) with 3 closed doors between me and the world……And then I opened all three doors (mainly because one was being banged on) to rejoin the world of the messy house and whining kids. At the mere mention of the fact that I might not feel well sends my kids into a panic attack. They immediately start asking who is going to take care of them and cook supper (why the name “Daddy” doesn’t pop into their heads, I have no idea). It’s amazing, I can look around the house and think I am not doing a good job of anything really, but they think I’m Super Mom. Strange how different our perspectives are.

Tim’s car is back in the shop (seriously, I’m not kidding) for the fourth time. This time his wiper blade wasn’t working. For those of you who own an American car, that thought may not phase you. For those of you who own a foreign car with tons of stupid sensors and motors for things that should be simple and straightforward, you can probably commiserate with me on the amount that this piece that is making the wiper blade work incorrectly costs. I’ve renamed his car, it is no longer named Zoe, it’s MP (money pit).

Madison feigned interest in sitting up this morning. After 10 minutes of it, she won’t do it again. At least I have the pictures to prove that she did it. Maybe she can fit this into her schedule again tomorrow.

Molli got tubes in her ears yesterday. This was the second time (the first time was when she was a baby). The main difference is between a baby getting tubes and a 5-year-old: babies cry afterwards, big kids are drunk afterwards. It did give me some perspective on why the babies cry, though. Apparently they feel drunk and confused. It was actually somewhat amusing to listen to Molli talk. Every time she made a sentence she would follow it with “but I don’t know what I mean.” To be honest, I had no clue either; nothing she was saying was making any sense.

Morgan says that her class gives her a headache because they talk too much. She is the only one this year that has not gotten in trouble for talking during class. I often wonder how any child of mine can achieve that. I remember my “conduct grade” from elementary school; let’s just say it wasn’t good because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. It’s amazing that my kids can, go figure.

Now I am off to wave my magic wand to make my house clean….