Thursday, March 5, 2009

The days keep marching by!

I got up early this morning. Well, by my standards it was early. I was awake by 0630 and cuddling with Anderson, and out of bed by 0645. Now I know for so many of you out there, these times are either regular times, or if you see the alarm clock reading 0645 and you are still in bed, you jump five feet in the air, heart bursting, yelling like a little white rabbit about being late. Not me. I have a horrible habit of sleeping until eight. My older kids are mature enough to get breakfast for all, cereal albeit, but they do. And I get up in time to avert disaster with the little ones.
Needless to say, I was really stoked to be up before anyone else! I had the chance to be the "proper" Mom. Psh. I went to the kitchen to start breakfast and found that some storm must have blown through last night. I mean, surely I didn't leave the kitchen in that state! So I began to clean the kitchen so that I could get to my stove. So, 21 plates, 19 forks, 8 spoons, 4 butter knives, a case of glasses, and Top Chef's inventory of pots and pans later, I was able to start the scrambled eggs. By this point the kids are up, thanks to their alarm, so there went my whole idea of surprising them by me waking them up. They sit down to eat, and I keep washing the ever reproducing pile of dirty dishes, and notice that the laundry room has exploded. Again. Like it has every day this past week. I'm pretty sure that they just put their clean clothes straight into the hamper. Totally bypass the drawers, throw it in the laundry room, where it becomes Mom's problem, not theirs. So I start yet another load of clothes, run down the hall and back with today's outfits for Terry and Paulee, and drop everything because Anderson is on the brink of death due to starvation.
Just as he is finishing up, I notice Paulee and Terry look a little different. Upon closer inspection, I am puzzled to find my children have began to turn purple. They both have big purple lines down their necks. Terry has a big purple circle on the back of his left hand, the palm, and the webbing of that hand is also strangely purple. Paulee has the rash of purple dots on one leg, and her chest has a curious array of purple marks. Guess what. They found a marker in Daniel's room that had been left out, and it was purple! And it was the worst washable marker I've ever known. The marketing director for that company should be lashed for that lie. Into the tub they both go to try and scour these markings off. The whole time I get to answer Terry's question. Yes, one question, not multiple questions.
"What are you doin' Ma?"
"I'm washing the marker off you and Paulee"
"Oh, get it off. It's dirty."
"Yes, that is my whole intention. To wash off the marker."
"What are you doin' Ma?
"Still washing the marker off you two."
"Oh. What are you doin?"
This goes on the entire 10 minutes they are in the tub. With Paulee's occasional opinions inserted into the conversation. It ended by me saying, "Apparently NOT washing off the marker. Just sitting here swiping a washrag over you for your enjoyment!"
"Oh. Fanks Mom!"
So, I get them dressed, run through my typical "Stop playing. Stop reading. Stop sitting. Get dressed. Clean your room. GET MOVING!", get myself dressed, switch the laundry over, and just happened to glance at the clock. It's only nine o'clock. NINE! What a sense of foreboding comes over me as I realize that my day of being up and at 'em and head of the game, is just going to be a day that I fight to stay above water.
Oh, and did you notice? Not a single second has been utilized for school. So we drag it with us to a church function in the hopes that they will complete the assignments. But the day was not a loss. We came home and spent hours outside playing. I got out the baseball equipment and played catch with each child individually, watched Paulee get blown over by the wind a couple of times, and just thoroughly enjoyed my children. Terry was mesmerized by the tractor that drove past. Yes, I live in a town where people just drive their tractors and 4-wheelers from place to place. And to finish the evening, I cooked with Jeffie Jean a recipe she picked out from her first cookbook. It was a birthday present from her Aunt Teri Lynne, and she has spent hours devoted to reading the book.
So, I may not have crossed much off my to-do list, but I accomplished more than I could have hoped.