I suspect that some of you are a liiiiitle bit skeptical about some of my posts.
“Come on,” you say. “Her life cannot REALLY be like that. I mean, it can’t be that crazy ALL THE TIME.”
Oh, can it not?
Shall I prove it to you?
Exhibit A: A random 30-minute snippet of my day-with-kids-(and-dog).
And the clock starts…NOW.
5:30 BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK!
5:31 I take the dog outside in an attempt to quell the eardrum-stabbing noise.
5:32 I throw the dog his squeakyfrog and watch him run until he jerks himself backwards because he’s at the end of his tie-out cable. (And he’s SUPPOSEDLY a smart dog.)
5:35 I see my new-ish neighbor and decide to be sociable and initiate a chat at the fence. We talk about our dogs, including how CUTE she thinks our dog is (HA), and how one of her dogs likes people and not dogs, and the other likes dogs and not people. We chit. We chat. We hit it off. I’m getting kind of excited thinking, “Wow–maybe she wants to be my friend!” and “I’m actually not coming off like too much of a honyock!”
5:36 Boys #2 and 3 appear around the corner of the house. Boy #3 is not wearing any pants.
5:37 I talk fast, still trying to make a good impression, my eyes all the while darting nervously at Super Belching Boy and the Pantless Wonder.
5:38 Boys #2 and 3 approach me at the fence. I notice that not only is Boy #3 just wearing a hand-me-down garage sale Spider-Man t-shirt that’s nearly too small and a pair of training-pants undies, he also has green snot completely running down his face.
Did I mention that this neighbor does not have children?
5:39 Being the good mom I am, I tell Boy #2 that, yes, he can play the computer IF he has really cleaned up the living room like I asked. I’m sure my neighbor thought he was going to play some educational computer game like Carl the Camel Conquers Calculus. I’m pretty sure he went inside and played World of Warcraft.
5:40 My neighbor, being the kind person she is, tries to make conversation with Boy #3, who is now sticking his finger in the snotty goodness. I pick him up, trying to be all like, “Aren’t my kids cute?” but then realized that his cute face was even more icky-looking up close.
5:41 Boy #3 runs off to play with (*cough* torture!) the dog again.
5:42 The blinds in the family room are thrown aside in a clumsy, crushing movement, and Boy #2 appears in the window–actually STANDING IN THE WINDOW. He pulls the window open and then my neighbor breathes in a quick “Ooh!” as it appears that he is going to just push right on through the screen. After a loud “Hey! Stop!” from me, he climbs back out of the window and then shouts that he can’t get the laptop hooked up the monitor. (Remember my Frankenstein-esque laptop
?) He closes the window (leaving the blinds askew) as I yell back “I’ll be in IN A MINUTE!!”
5:45 Trying to compose myself, I turn back to my neighbor with a “What’re-ya-gonna-do?” kind of smile and shrug, and then hear the sound of water running. Turning my head, I see Boy #3 with the water hose. And the dog. Who fortunately seems to be enjoying the shower. Oh, and Boy #3 is STILL not wearing pants.
5:47 I tell my neighbor that I’d better go turn off the water and dress my child, slosh through the waterlogged grass, and turn off the spigot. I bring the dog inside and put him in his crate. I look for Boy #3 so I can dress him.
5:48 I walk past my laundry room and smell the undeniable aroma of yesterday’s poopy pants (Boy #3’s, not mine.) and decide I should probably throw them in the wash before it becomes even more rank.
5:50 I see the dog run past the laundry room. What the—? Yes, he has escaped from his crate. The door is still latched shut, and the half-chewed leash that we have to tie around it because he’s figured out how to open the door is still intact as well. I’m pretty sure he Apparated.
5:52 Three trips around the downstairs and one dog treat later, the dog is back in his crate.
5:53 The doorbell rings. Boy #3 answers the door in his underwear. Snot is still coming from his nose. It’s the boys’ favorite traveling salesman–The Schwann’s Man!
5:54 I try to look at the new catalog, featuring new mouthwatering delights and our old stand-by’s, like corn dogs and mini Angus meatloaves. Suddenly I notice that Boy #3 now has my digital camera and is fumbling around with it all the while putting his fingerprints all over the lens and viewfinder. Super.
5:55 The Schwann’s Man asks if I would like him to hold my camera. I graciously accept his assistance and try once again to leaf through the catalog. (Yes, he does come every other Tuesday, like clockwork. No, I’m NEVER organized enough to have my order ready ahead of time. I think he’s even given up giving me those little stickers to put on the calendar. They usually end up stuck to one of the kid’s forehead.)
5:57 I manage to place my order, take back my camera, and wipe Boy #3’s nose. I rummage through my disorganized purse for my checkbook while the Schwann’s Man heads to his truck to fill my order.
5:59 Two minutes and $71 later, we have mini pizzas, ice cream, and various other frozen snack foods that pass for a well-balanced meal at my house.
6:00 I carry the huge plastic bag of frozen food into the garage to load into the extra freezer. (How can you have three boys and NOT have an extra freezer?!) I notice that the 24-count box of popsicles we JUST bought have been ravaged, but the empty box has kindly been left in the freezer for me to dispose of. I close the freezer door and take a deep breath before re-entering the house to see what the next 30 minutes has in store.
So, do you believe me now?