When I think of mornings in our house, or in general, I think of
F U...
N!
Yup, mornings are always a
fun time around here.
Saturday morning started like any other.
It begins with me trying to pretend I don't hear any
monsters opening my door and slamming it shut over and over and over.
I mean
slamming it.
I
really wake up
(when my brain is on the verge of exploding)
on my own free will
as I'm being poked in the face by multiple fingers to a choir of wailing and moaning children. They boys were singing their usual morning song which I believed is titled "
I'm starving." It has some pretty deep lyrics, the chorus goes something like "I want cereal, I want a sandwich, I want ice-cream" with one verse sung by each of the little ones. It's a song that would make any mother's
ears bleed insides feel
warm and fuzzy.
This particular morning I was feeling terrible, I had a killer headache and was in no mood for any nonsense! I figured if I could get them breakfast as fast as possible I might be able to coheres them into a cuddle fest
(aka going back to sleep). I quickly headed for the stairs, got about three steps down only for Big Bug to start screaming
"Ma! Ma!" Making someone hold his hand when going down the stairs is his
new thing. That's exactly what we need in this house -
ANOTHER new thing.
We've got more
"new things" than
Trump has
dollars.
By the time all four of us are downstairs I attempt to start taking orders again, because these boys are like adult women who can't make up their mind so I know it's changed in the last 10 seconds.
Another fight starts
I'm giving someone the wrong bowl.
Now
I'm screaming. VERY LOUDLY!! (Inside of my own head but still screaming.)
On to the
next fight.
Fishy Richie doesn't want cereal now. This may or may not have been a result of the bowl issue.
I decide this is
MY day to win and Fishy Richie can continue to
starve.
2 bowls of cereal made and I decide to make one for myself.
More screaming.
Even more screaming.
I haven't even got the cereal bowls to the table yet and I'm ready to call it a day.
Fishy Richie gives in and wants cereal.
Too.
Bad.
You have a father -
Ask
him.
Anyways, I deliver the other two bowls to the table and I'm so irritated that I take mine over to the stairs and sit down to eat. It's like
I'm a sulking 4 year old. I don't care.
Just as I sit down Big Bug spills some milk on the floor because
OF COURSE he can't just keep his bowl at the table and eat.
Noooooooooo!
I think by this point my loss of sanity was obvious because Big Bug goes did this.
He's not even 2.
I decide I'm not even going to get mad about it because he was so good about it. He then picks up his bowl
AGAIN and my blood starts to boil. What does he do next?
He comes and sits with me. I can
NOT be mad at
this kid.
(At least not right now)
Dad comes down and gives Fishy Richie cereal because apparently which bowl he gets doesn't matter anymore.
Two minutes later him and Chuleta get into it and someone spills
again.
Blood boiling!
Rage building!!
Screaming!!! (Only this time it's not inside my head.)
While I'm being MAD this happens.
Chuleta then got up, got the broom and dust pan and cleaned it up. He's 3.
I was almost ready to give up on life mornings and then they go and do that.
Sweet
Stinkin
Monsters
(P.S. for those of you wondering, only half of the bad spacing was intentional.)