Brief Bio.

I am a proud mom of 3 wonderful boys; we have a faithful dog, an arrogant, irritating but lovable feline, and a very skeptical bunny rabbit. We live on the prairie in a heartland USA city, and no, its not just tumbleweeds and cows.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Doesn't Everyone Eat Shredded Wheat with a Spatula?

Okay, so how many of you eat breakfast out of disposable tupperware ON PURPOSE?  This is how it happened:  Last night during music practice, son #3 approaches sheepishly and all innocent looking, with a bottle of dishwasher liquid in hand, asking if he can go ahead and start dishwasher if there are a few "holes" of dishes on the top rack??  (cheapskate that I are, I never let them start a load until it is utterly crammed with dirty dishes so we won't waste electricity and water)  With big eyes like he is this darling child that obediently completes all his chores as instructed, I bat my eyes proudly and say, "of course, honey", and he disappears.  After practice, it's late; I emerge from the basement to find the living room strewn with popcorn, blankets, tipped over cups, Nerf swords, dirty socks and superhero costumes in wads on the floor.  Child # 3 is passed out cold on the couch while sons # 1 and 2 are STILL watching TV.  Now, in our house I normally do not allow "vegging" in front of screens like zombies, but I wanted them out of my hair for music practice, so I guiltily admit I allowed this.  Ignoring the shambles of the living room,  I holler to get son #3 in his little bed thinking he will lay there like a slug and I'll end up having to throw a blanket on him.  As I head to the kitchen to get the coffeepot ready for morning, he bolts off the couch and carries on about having to 'measure me' for homework that's due tomorrow.  My thoughts are, 'hmmm...1. since when, is homework so important to him that he sleepwalks doing it, and 2. why does he wait until 11pm to complete his homework when he implied that it was almost completely done this afternoon?'  He is measuring my arms and neck and legs while I fill the coffeepot, which is a very odd experience.  I get him tucked into his bunk, decorated with, you guessed it, orange halloween lights. Doesn't everyone fall asleep with their Thor helmet on, with their Nerf sword?

In the chaos of the morning for which I was totally unprepared, I realize it's picture day.  Do I have anything laid out neatly across their beds, ready in the morning, like most June Cleaver's??  No, I am feverishly rummaging thru drawers and backpacks looking for something halfway decent.  My kids go to catholic school so a 'non-uniform day' is a major event.  Son # 3's desk is neat and orderly, organized.  His drawers?  Wads and crams of clothes all mixed up.  Underwear and mismatched PJ's in his jean drawer... well, you get the picture.  I hurriedly wrote 3 checks and crammed them into the envelopes along with the lunchmoney I was late for.  I get them to school, pour myself a cup of coffee and enter my usual morning routine of at least 20-30 minutes of FB coma.  As I reach for something to eat cereal out of, not only are there no bowls, but no spoons, no...nothing to eat out of.  The dishwasher that Mr. Big Eyes claimed to have obediently filled, he didn't bother to turn on last night; thus, no clean dishes.  Ooookay.  So I improvise.  I use disposable tupperware for my cereal.  It was either that or a large mixing bowl or a plate.  Then, no spoons.  Nothing even close.  So I grab a gravy ladel.  As I sit down I think to this normal?  How many people do I know eat cereal out of a gravy ladels and think nothing of it?  I shrug my shoulders and decide, 'whelp, at least I am not eating my shredded wheat with a spatula.  That was next on the list if I couldn't find a ladel.' and chuckle as I move on with the morning.

Soon, realizing in horror, that my darling, big eyed son # 1, forgot his blasted picture money, I call the school and they tell me I have to get it there right now 'cuz the picture people are leaving in less than an hour.  As I approach the security school door, I spy other parents bolting out of their cars hurriedly trotting, picture envelopes clutched in their hands with irritated looks on their faces.  Chuckling, I look at the guy standing next to me as we wait for the office to click the buzzer and let us in.  Dissheveled, with a lazy smile he looks at me and says 'heh, I was dead asleep when my daughter told me about all this picture crap.'  I look harder at this dude.  Five o'clock shadow, slippers on, now you know he didn't brush his teeth...I don't feel so bad.  Moments ago I was grabbing diaper wipes to erase the mascara raccoon eyes and smoothing down my ridiculous hair so I could avoid walking into the school with a brown paper bag over my head with eyes cut out.  And this was all before I went to work. Ahh, the lovely adventures of parenthood....

1 comment:

  1. Haha! In contrast, I bring you homeschool picture day: a beautiful, sunny day outside, some blazing fall leaves, kids acting goofy, and Mom with a camera. Load on computer. Put on photo sharing site if you like. Print as many as you want.

    No worries about mascara raccoon eyes, wild hair, or forgotten money. However, we do have clothes crammed into drawers, shoved under beds, and piled on the floor, possibly in an attempt to prove chaos theory. Matching socks are optional. Heck, socks are optional.