Before my kids were born, when I'd hear mothers counting down the days until their children's return to school from holiday or summer breaks, I'd get all judgy. Inwardly, I'd tsk tsk and think, "Why do people even have kids if they can't wait to send them away?"
All I can say now is: I UNDERSTAND.
Since Colin is my first school-aged child, this holiday break (all 408 hours of it) has been my first experience with extended school vacations. And dear gawd has it been rough. Whoever called this a "break" was delusional ... or at least, didn't have three squabbling little boys. The only thing on a break is my last shred of sanity. I'm thisclose to wandering the streets naked, muttering to myself.
The first few days - dare I say even the first week and a half - were manageable. Pleasant, even. But in this last week or so, the excitement of Christmas has worn off and the boredom of being at home has set in. And thus, shenanigans have ensued.
I swear that from the time I open my mouth in the morning to the time I finally get to close it at night, all that comes out are the following phrases or variations thereof:
Stop hitting/pinching/poking/scaring/bothering your brother.
Go put some pants on.
Get down from there.
When I tell you to do something, it means do it now.
Don't eat that!
Why is he crying?
... And perhaps a few threats.
In fact, I just had to take a break from writing this blog. I thought I was safe, seeing as the kids were playing happily for the moment ... but no. Wanna know what called me from the keyboard? I had to rescue Cameron, whose head was stuck between the piano and the wall.
Yeah. Really. I'll let that one sink in for a minute.
When I came back to the computer, the baby had managed to climb up, turn it off, and spill a cup of water - all in a matter of a minute or two. And by the time I remedied those situations, Colin ran in screaming that Cameron had forced him to eat a bug.
Folks, this isn't a cluster of particularly bad events. And nothing has been embellished even one iota for the sake of the blog. THIS HAS BEEN THE NORM. For, like, a week now.
And my house. My house. Every surface is crusty and cluttered. There are enough crumbs in my living room carpet to feed an entire village of starving children ... for a year. Even the dog has a crusty patch in her fur, where I'm pretty sure someone spilled orange juice on her. Either that or it's dried snot - which is, unfortunately, entirely possible.
So yeah. I can't wait for Colin to go back to school. Because managing two kids is infinitely easier than mediating between three.
Let's just hope my last, frazzled nerve makes it through today ...
PS - I almost forgot to tell you guys! If you haven't noticed, the Frump has a new feature: a cool video bar right up at the top of the page. I've partnered with Her Channel to bring you some helpful, relevant (and entertaining!) videos if you wanna click on through ... and eventually, I'll have some of my own videos up there as well. (OMG, a vlog! New territory, y'all!)