A regular Monday

I’m coming to terms with the fact that my life is not average. That’s a good thing. It’s also a hard thing. Life with two boys is eventful… but today we didn’t have to go to a hospital, doctor’s office, therapy play area, or even to the grocery store.

It was a regular day…a Monday where I could see how ‘the other half’ live. You know, those not-crazy people who only think “How is this my life?!” a FEW times a day rather than nearly every minute their children are awake.

Here are a few highlights:

Great things: We took Pop to the airport. Upon returning home we began a snack session. Just as things were calm enough to finally realize I had a 32 oz Big Gulp amount of liquid in a pea-sized bladder I made a break for it. Just a quick tinkle- nothing Tom Hanks worthy. Then again, we should know that we are ALWAYS being timed when we go potty.

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A miracle happened: NO ONE FOLLOWED ME! 84 seconds of solitary confinement! It was beautiful.

I heard the toy bin overturn as I sat down. I came out to this:

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Note the innocent stare of Firstborn as if to say he saw the whole thing. The demon ghost who did such a terrible thing ran that-a-way.

We cleaned up and headed outside for some basketball and catch. 30 minutes later the boys were happily enjoying the outdoors when I decided to reassemble a jogging stroller given to us by my sister in law. She’s awesome. Her husband is awesome. Her kids are awesome. Hand-me-downs and secondhand strollers that can be turned without monumental force are awesome. I set to it.

Caveat: I am lucky I can assemble Legos towers. My idea of Hell is being trapped in an Ikea storeroom and being told to assemble every display by morning. Without a tool or man in sight, I set to work. Firstborn watched in amazement, hopping into the stroller occasionally. The wheels would fall off…literally. Soon the stroller than had been in 8 pieces was complete! There was great rejoicing.IMG_5714

Firstborn deemed it roadworthy with a few good pushes. I told him, ” This stroller is now fully operational. I suggest we use it.” Star Wars quotes will not be lost on him forever. Truly.

We continued to play until lunchtime, when I learned that my child does not transition from one activity to the next easily. He came in from Catch well, or so I thought. As I spread peanut butter onto bread, Firstborn ran up behind me and said, “Ma!” I turned around to be immediately blinded by a sudden dog attack. Apparently our game of catch was not over.

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Now, he really was trying to play catch. His father also likes to throw things at me before checking to make sure I am ready.

PSA: When playing catch or throwing an object you wish another person to catch, first 1) Establish communication with the recipient. 2) Make eye contact. 3) Voice your desire to throw an object at the person. 4) Wait for confirmation, observing that the recipient does not have her hands full with soapy children, laundry baskets, toys, or dinner. 5) Then and ONLY then, gently toss the object.

Unfortunately, no woman has suffered such dalmatian-induced devastation since Cruella DeVille. This sucker came at my eye at top speed. An HOUR later, my eye still had swelling.

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Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued. This was also a lesson in appropriate pain-inflicted exclamations. My choice was one of history rather than G-rated cussing sound-alikes.

“Holy Roman Empire, Batman! ”  Whatever. By now we know that I’m not normal. Then we had a break for discipline and a lesson on projectiles being outside.

The day continued on by scaling Mount St. Laundry, baking casserole, doling out discipline, cleaning up the kitchen, a nap time for the kids (FINALLY!), handling mail and business calls, and then greeting a neighbor who brought banana bread over. Bless her and her banana bread. Good friends say, “Hi. I like you. Now stuff your face and shut your mouth.”

We carried on to bathtime wherein Firstborn sank a whole floatilla of plasticware and Secondborn learned that sprayers make his feet ticklish. The giggles continued into bedtime, which was punctuated by the horrors of teething. Worse, Secondborn must ponder why a mother would introduce him to the idea that a dinosaur would wear a hat a ride a bicycle.  Imagination is key, Kiddo.  Exercise and fashion sense know no extinction.

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Then I finally got a shower. One where I washed my hair. Yes, it’s true. I even dried it…for about 10 minutes. Then the hair dryer broke after I finished only one side of my hair completely. Ladies, gasp in horror. Somehow I gave my poor hairdryer CPR but a new one is on the purchase list.

“Normal Monday?” I’ve concluded that there is no such thing. Facebook people who have perfect, non-mess making kids don’t exist. Either that or they are liars. I smell pants burning every time I see a link to Pintrest. I finished sorting mail and then blogged yesterday’s post, crashing and burning into a slumber far to late in the night for today’s 5:30 wake-up call.

How was your Monday? If it was normal, don’t tell me.

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