Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Definition of Hectic


So after a long hot day of running around and football practice, we got home tonight at 8pm. I rallied all of my energy in a last minute push to get all the kids showered and have dinner on the table at 8:30pm. Well the universe had other plans.
I call the troops in  for a meeting dishing out orders, a who does what and when list.  I get everyone to look at me and repeat the evening's mission. After everyone correctly recites his role I dash to the kitchen to start dinner.  Thinking ahead, I had already made the Rice a-Roni so I checked that first. Turns out I had forgotten to put the seasoning packet into the mix.
Strike one
8:10pm. I dash upstairs to check progress. My first son, Shnook, is slowly removing his clothing and sings Christmas carols at the top of his lungs so I urge him into the shower. 8:13ish check, he's in the shower.
I remove my youngest son's clothing and get him ready to get in the shower when I see Shmeep, the oldest, walk by still in full football gear. This of course is not a part of the game plan and a clear foul ball. He explains that he can't get his jersey off over his shoulder pads. I plop Shmitty into the shower with Shnook and go to the room to help Shmeep underdress.
8:30pm everyone undressed and shower ready or already showered.
I return to the kitchen look at my failed rice then to my right and see the George Forman grill has fallen into the sink full of water, so no grilled meat tonight. ( I have no clue if I still could have used it and didn't want to test it, better dry and safe than sorry:)
I pull it out clean it off and leave it to dry out. I walk back to the stove to think and suddenly, drip drip drip water is falling on my head!  Man, of all things, the ceiling is leaking. I gallop upstairs, edged on by the shouts of "mission, attack the baby! He's ruining our house!". At the top of the stairs stand two naked boys with marshmallow guns aimed at a two year old holding a detachable shower head aimed at them. Needles to say, the bathroom floor is soaking wet which explains the raindrops falling on my head.
Strike two
Deep breath in deep breath out. So, not time to loose it I can still pull this night together, or so I thought.
I direct the troops to their room to get properly suited up, clean up the water, call about having a plumber come out tomorrow and dress the tiny terror.
Shmitty is potty training and tonight he finally wants to wear underwear to bed. Overjoyed by the news I eagerly dress him in his finest pair of Thomas the Tank engine undies and send him on his way to play with his brothers.
8:45ish all is not lost
I pop a frozen pizza into the oven, emergency food a must around here.
I clean up the water that has dripped from the ceiling all over the stove and the floor. I put some veggies in the microwave to steam, take a breath then head upstairs.
First the smell, yuck!  Then the sight, gross! Apparently there has been an accident. I find Shmitty complaining about the poop on his foot at the top of the stairs just outside the bathroom.
Breathe
Me: Shmitty what happened?
Him: I pooped
Me: didn't we talk about pooping in the toilet?
Him: I did
Me: no buddy it's all over your new undies.
Him: I did pooped in the toilet.
Me: You went in the bathroom, sat on the toilet and pooped?
Him: yes
Me: Did you pull your undies down?
Him (with a "now why in the world would I do that face") : No!
Breathe
I clean him up, then the floor and put him back in the shower.
Strike three I'm out!
9:30pm all dreams have gone and I'm laughing at myself for thinking I could have pulled that off. I make plates pour water and at 9:40pm we all sat down an ate dinner.

2 comments:

  1. Oh no!!! That last bit about the poop did me over. Well, at least he tried! I hope nights like these come few and far between :)

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  2. First time reading your blog (I know I'm late), but this was too funny. I would have torn my hair out.

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