People. For real, I am not making much sense right now.
This is what happens when you let a 6 and 3 year old stay up past 11, then are unable to fall asleep till about 2 only to be awaken at 7 by The Littles.
And the kicker of it all is — it didn’t even work passing them off to Brother this a.m. Because they were so darn loud and playing with so much f-ing shit immediately, that it was {for the first time in my entire life}, more painful to stay in bed rather than get up.
We don’t even have toys, yet somehow they manage to find shit to play with that I didn’t even know existed or that we owned. How does that happen? I mean, us, owning a motorcycle man? WTF has motorcycle man been hiding … till now?
Breakfast, an actual home made one, was absolutely out of the question. Not even near the realm of possibilities. I blame this on Brother and The BF, who took off by 8:30. Alright, so it’s not like they bailed, they had a legit event, but still!
Leaving me unattended and alone with The Littles? I don’t think I’m that adult enough. Not think, I’m not. I’m also not laid back enough because the only pressing thing on my mind was trying to tune out the disaster that our home was while simultaneously attempting to figure out how it might be possible to start cleaning and just straight up throwing everything away.
That’s what happens when I’m overwhelmed with home disaster. I want to rid myself of any and all possessions. Except my Lulu. Lulu is a prized possession. What the hell would I wear otherwise?
Oh and forget me saying last week that shit looked like we had been robbed around here when painting. I take it all back. This was prior to being hit with the biggest storm of all : The Littles. There is nothing that can compare to the havoc of children. And pray do tell, why is it that it seems to take 2.9 seconds for disaster to strike and yet hours to clean up? I don’t get it. I just don’t.
Anyway. This morning. I decided to call for backup, i.e.: TC. He was all lounging in bed, enjoying a nice sleep in when I woke him up and demanded he take us to breakfast. I couldn’t be expected to do everything! Geez.
Trying to get The Littles ready is a balancing act I’m still trying to master. I have one who needs to pee and one who is insisting on brushing teeth for the second time, so I figure my safest bet is the bathroom. As in, no, you can NOT use the downstairs bathroom. We’re all in this together, dammit. Except then the one starts peeing around the toilet and the other is putting toothpaste around the sink laughing hysterically and I GD, I just want some coffee, it’s too much before 9a.m.
Clean pee. Clean toothpaste. Praise The Jesus for Clorox Disinfecting Wipes. Dress The Littles and lawdy. People, if they didn’t look good. Damn good. I mean, they always look damn good. This is me being impressed with me that I dressed them properly and they looked so presentable. Even Maman was impressed. See.
Off we go to breakfast. Where the biggest hit of all was prior to even walking into the restaurant. God Bless ATM’s. And The Littles for their promises of, auntie, it’s so easy to get money. We get you all the money you need right now. Oh, wait, can you give us your card?
It’s the thought that counts, right?
Breakfast is a blur, the following hours through lunch then nap are a blur. I remember bits and pieces. Like parks and running around and blowing bubbles and sidewalk chalk and sandboxes and being awested and put in jail and playing baseball and tag. But, mainly, it’s all one big blur.
When nap time came, I put on Goonies for M, and Brother put our littlest Little to bed. Then, of course, we both fell asleep.
One of the most glorious hours I’ve had. It’s too bad M woke me up to tell me, I think Murphy is eating something he shouldn’t be. Shit. That’s never a good thing to hear. Knowing Murph, it could be an entire fridge he’d be able to clear out, but thankfully, it was just one trail mix snack bag.
More blur of acitivites and running around and games and then suddenly, it’s time for dinner. Over at TC’s. Craziness ensues with performances of “gymnastics and piano extravaganza” and me hijacking all TC’s food to prepare for our Zoo day tomorrow and packing lunches for the Littles and trying to remember things like sunscreens and bandaids and all that other random crap you parents need to have around with you at all times.
And now it’s almost midnight. I’m still working on putting the house back together and doing a second load of laundry.
But I’ll be. If these two just don’t have my heart. It’s crazy. It’s chaotic. And they’ve even worn their shoes in the house {gasp}. But just look at them. Who am I to deny The Littles?
I’m not. That’s why I say yes and end up buying them shit.
Spider man and sparkly striped flip flops being huge winners. You can never go wrong with a pair of rocking flip flops. Since flip flops, are so fun. We wuv dem. Dem mean sumwer.
Right on, Littles.