Today has been one of those days. You ever have those days? I’m not answering the phone because all the caller would hear is shrieking children. It took me an hour and I didn’t even get three bags of groceries put away. I broke my toe. it was chaos and it was all before 11:30am.
Allow me to begin at the beginning. The day started off full of promise. Conor, our early riser (4:30 anyone?) slept until 6:30!!! The kids and I were dressed, fed and out the door for errands by 8:15 (no small feat). We successfully navigated Target and Trader Joes without tears or tantrums and there was even lots of giggling. A great sign no? Even Kieran who didn’t sleep at all in the car was cheerful and pleasant. We made it back home by 10am (just made the carpool toll at the bridge).But, as the garage door opened, everything unraveled.
It started with a fight over who was going to close which van door – they love pushing those automatic door buttons. Conor politely asked to close the side opposite the one he usually closes thus creating waves in our family pool. He asked so politely so why refuse him? There is still another door to close, exactly like the other one just on the left side of the car. Silly me, I should have known better. Right or left side makes all the difference. We entered the house on a trail of tears and stomping. The groceries were placed on the table to wait while I fed a now hungry Kieran. No sooner do I sit down to feed the baby somebody uses the bathroom and needs my assistance, Conor crawls onto the bathroom vanity, opens the medicine cabinet, grabs a box of Claire’s hair bands and dumps them into the toilet. We take care of things in the bathroom, shoo everybody out and I return to feed the baby. Now Claire wants her lunch box so she and her mouse can have a picnic. Read asking every 45 seconds until I’m done feeding the baby for the lunch box. The big kids disappear to one of the bedrooms, Kieran and I enjoy a quiet moment as he’s eating. It was only a moment. Claire comes running from the bedroom crying and bearing teeth marks on her arm. Conor is quick on her heels, big smile, I bite sissy! Claire soothed, Conor sent to time out after apologizing. Back to finishing feeding Kieran so I can resolve this lunch box issue. As fate would have it, I cannot find the lunchbox under the breakfast dishes and groceries that are cluttering the kitchen. Claire, let me put the groceries away and do the dishes and then I will be able to get you the lunch box. She is not pacified by this answer. I was halfway through a bag of goods that need to be refrigerated (with Claire checking on me every minute and a half or so) when Conor starts using one of the kiddie chairs to launch himself over the back of the couch. I take care of that situation and Claire begins to set her picnic table (still asking about the lunch box) her table is a cardboard box. She and Conor begin to fight over the table. Neither one wants to share and Conor is muscling her out of the way. Brief pep talk about sharing, kindness and respecting personal space and Conor is appeased with a larger cardboard box that had been standing in as a rocket ship this week. Claire is having nothing to do with this business of converting the rocket ship to a picnic table. Claire melts down and is sent to her room until she cools off. Meanwhile, Conor abandons the picnic table in favor of playing blocks with Kieran. I return to the kitchen to finish the bag of groceries when I hear Kieran’s shrill ‘conor’s got me’ shriek. Conor has Kieran by his head and is trying to stand up with him. Brief explanation about the proper way to play with Kieran, Conor gets distracted by the sandbox outside. Claire comes out of timeout and I return to the kitchen. Claire returns to her “where is my lunchbox?” refrain. I honestly can’t find the lunch box and just want to get the groceries unloaded and the dishes done. Finding the rocket ship turned picnic table unoccupied, Claire, ever the opportunist, turns it back into a rocket ship. Conor comes in the house and wants to join in. Claire melts down again because Conor is playing rocket ship !?! Sometimes I am baffled by the under four set’s rules. Rocket ship intervention successful. They sit down at the kiddie table and start pushing it into each other’s stomach, that game gets old fast for both but neither one will quit. I’ve had enough bickering, kiddie table is banished to the garage for the time being. Conor decides to play outside again, Claire returns to her mouse picnic still griping about the lunch box. I return to the groceries (its going on an hour since we’ve been home). I get a bag full put away before Claire shrieks “NO CONOR!” I come out of the kitchen to find Conor about to overturn the sandbox and dump all the sand out. As I race outside to stop him, my little toe catches on the back of the couch, tiny crack. I have a broken toe AND I was unsuccessful at stopping Conor. At this point I’ll admit. Call it a parenting fail. I gave up. Forget the groceries and the dishes. Sorry Claire, forget the lunchbox. Mom thinks we all just need to sit for a few minutes quietly and catch our breath. And all I have to say, Thank you Lord that Fridays are Josh’s early day. He walked in the door a few minutes later.
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