Take 5, Mom

Look at these faces. How could you not love them? I do. I love them more than Romeo loved Juliet, more than Garfield loves lasagna, more than Tammy Faye loves mascara.

More than anything. I have never had better times in my whole life than I have with these kids. They are the most awesome, hilarious, sweet, complicated, loyal friends I have ever had. They are everything to me.

And yet...sometimes, I just need five minutes. Well, actually, 3 minutes and 37 seconds.

See, I had just fed these little cherubs, washed the dishes, cleaned up the mess that they left especially for me in the living room, seperated them from wrestling, refereed a fight, wiped a dirty butt, and started a load of laundry that contained their clothes. So, after working all day and then coming home to my 2nd job-MOM, I just wanted to take the ipod, lay on the bed and listen to Glee's version of "Poker Face". Is that too much to ask?

I just needed 3:37 to myself. Alone. In my room. Alone. No children. Alone.

Apparently, I am a life-giving energy source and they are aliens that must stay close to the mothership or they will die because, of course, they followed me into my room. I tried to take the high road and ignore them completely. Answer no questions. Reply to no comments. But, this, I should have known, only starts the game of "Who Can Make Mommy Talk First?" The questions and comments are blended with laughter as I try to drown them out with the music coming through the tiny ear buds. When this doesn't seem to be working they take a different approach. Attack!!! Now I am being poked and tugged and tickled while laying on the bed trying desperately to decompress and, all the while, my blood is reaching the boiling point.

Finally, I snap and I say, loudly but not hatefully, that I just want to listen to the music for a few minutes. Please let me be!! The children retreat, only to tell their commander in chief, Dad, that I want to lay on the bed and listen to music instead of watch the movie that had been picked out. Chief then yells my name, obviously concerned that I am hendering the schedule he has set forth. I don't answer. He yells louder, and I can hear him, but I pretend that I can't. He finally is motivated enough to come and check on me, not out of concern for my well being, but the fact that I have disregarded a vocal command to respond.

Chief: "What are you doin?" Firm, but not mean. Looking at me as if I am from another planet and I may want to take his brain for research.

Me: "I just wanted to lay here for a second and listen to a song. Just one song."

Chief: "Why?"

Me: "Just because."

Chief: "You know that we are gonna watch that movie, right?"

Me: "Yeah."

Chief: "When are you gonna be done?"

Me: "Forget it." Exhausted and disgusted with him for being a complete moron.

Chief: "Whatever." He walks away annoyed.

I laid there for a few seconds, hoping upon hope that Calgon or Paul Walker or both, might come and take me away. Just for 3:37. Is that too much to ask?

In the end, I put the ipod up and dutifully retreated to the living room where I watched a mediocre movie with my angels/hellions who climbed all over me, forced me to play tic-tac-toe about 73 times, talked, loved on me, needed a snack, wresteled some more, and did flips in front of the tv. The chief was right. Why would I possibly want a few minutes to myself? That's crazy.

I can't be mad at them for long. Who doesn't want to be loved? They love me beyond measure and I love them right back. What is there really to complain about?

Oh yeah, that's right, 3:37.