Adrien is my sister...not by choice, but by law

Adrien is my sister...not by choice, but by law. Sweet Adrien decided that I am somewhat funny. So, to satisfy her, I started this blog. Whether you will laugh or find me interesting, I can't predict, but no matter what you get out of this blog, just remember...Adrien Made Me Do It!!















Thursday, June 17, 2010

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.

3 comments:

  1. I need 12 hours, so I just stay in bed. Tell them I am not feeling well and I need my loving boys to take care of me. Of course they will, right after we get back from....(who cares?!?!) I now have the house to myself!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, how I understand, and commiserate, and feel your pain and would love 3:37 of my own.

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  3. I totally sympathize with your plight....I should've named my kids "Velcro" and "Needy". In fact, I've considered looking into plastic surgery to have Claire surgically attached to my hip. At least that way I'd have two free hands while cooking dinner and folding laundry. But I wouldn't change a thing :) Oh and I would also LOVE to have 3:37 to myself to listen to the Glee version of Poker Face. I just downloaded it last week and have only managed to listen to it once *sigh*

    ReplyDelete

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