Chickens, Keys, and Kids
Lack of inspiration brings on a blog from 8 months or so ago. Enjoy!
Why did we decide to have 7 kids I wonder. Presently it's 8:30 and our house has been torn apart from top to bottom.
Here's why:
Earlier, I was working on the web page for our business, during which my husband was down town getting his hair cut. Husband returned home, kids got dressed and cleaned, and all were ready to head out the door for dinner when we realized . . no keys!
I searched for them on the key hooks in the hallway, checked the chest by the front door, the dish on the top of the piano, the side table in my bedroom. I examined every surface in our home in which the keys occasionally land, but found nothing.
We found every set except the one set with no duplicate, the one set we needed, the only set for our Suburban which is the sole vehicle that will chauffeur us all to a meal out.
So now after an hour of searching I've collapsed on the couch only to look up and see the 2 year old carefully learning how to slide down the banister, and the one year old in front of me screaming and throwing her sippy cup at me because its past dinner time, and bed time for that matter.
My husband has decided to drive his little red pickup truck to get some takeout so we can feed our kids and put them to bed.
It all reminds me of a nursery rhyme I heard as a kid. "The little old lady who lived in a shoe." You know how it goes, "had so many children she didn't know what to do" we are to the part tonight where "she gave them some broth without any bread,whipped them all soundly and put them to bed." With out the whipping of course. That is unless something terribly drastic happens in the next 30 minutes.
Is it always this bad? You may ask. My answer to you would be . . Well no.
There are times, days, even months when I could find joy in nothing better than rescuing my child from the strait pin sticking through their shirt that was found who knows where.
Or answering the door because the dogs are barking and someone is knocking, only to look down and find our crazy chicken Recluse,who is pecking at the door because a stray cat is eating her cat food. Yes the chicken eats the cats food, but that's only after she's finished with the dog's. Odd thing that chicken.
But why, you say, would anybody ask for all that chaos? I believe, it is simply because I can. I'm all grown up, and no one can tell me no.
As a child I brought home every stray cat and dog in the neighborhood. I constantly housed frogs, snakes, bees and any other creature I could get my hands on. How I hated those words. "No Monica, no!"
Was 7 children due to lack of better judgement? Do I regret it now? Of course not! I couldn't properly function with out chaos. It's what makes my heart beat and my blood pump. Every day I have a challenge to overcome, and at the end of each day if I've succeeded. There is no greater satisfaction.
And if I haven't suceeded at the end of the day? Then I must be pregnant again, because during all 9 months of pregnancy our house is a shambles, we resort to frozen and fast foods, and I let all children sleep as late as they want. Instructing them to watch cartoons if they get up before me.
Now number seven will be here within the month. Last one we hope, what will life bring?
Try to explain that one to the young kids working in the drive through coffee shop.
Today, If Life is All Surreal, then it's pushing the point of bad dreamdom. (Yes I just made that word up). Of course my husband would tell you, as soon as I eat, this thought will pass, and I will be looking through rose colored glasses once again.
MJB
Why did we decide to have 7 kids I wonder. Presently it's 8:30 and our house has been torn apart from top to bottom.
Here's why:
Earlier, I was working on the web page for our business, during which my husband was down town getting his hair cut. Husband returned home, kids got dressed and cleaned, and all were ready to head out the door for dinner when we realized . . no keys!
I searched for them on the key hooks in the hallway, checked the chest by the front door, the dish on the top of the piano, the side table in my bedroom. I examined every surface in our home in which the keys occasionally land, but found nothing.
Then a little light bulb dimly lit above my head. "Ya know there weren't any keys on the key ring. . .or in the plate on the piano. . .or anywhere." And I followed this thought up with a frustrated "Kids!" I grilled them for answers, and came up with this conclusion.
Our 5,4,and 3 year old had collected every set of keys in the house and taken them upstairs to play. This all occurred during my 10th, month of pregnancy, as #7 was a month overdue. So our house wasn't exactly spotless, especially not upstairs, where I become very un-fond of going at 10 months pregnant.
The scavenger hunt for keys began, 6 starving children, and 1 starving pregnant lady. (I don't know which of those is more grumpy when feeling the pangs of hunger.)
We found every set except the one set with no duplicate, the one set we needed, the only set for our Suburban which is the sole vehicle that will chauffeur us all to a meal out.
So now after an hour of searching I've collapsed on the couch only to look up and see the 2 year old carefully learning how to slide down the banister, and the one year old in front of me screaming and throwing her sippy cup at me because its past dinner time, and bed time for that matter.
My husband has decided to drive his little red pickup truck to get some takeout so we can feed our kids and put them to bed.
It all reminds me of a nursery rhyme I heard as a kid. "The little old lady who lived in a shoe." You know how it goes, "had so many children she didn't know what to do" we are to the part tonight where "she gave them some broth without any bread,whipped them all soundly and put them to bed." With out the whipping of course. That is unless something terribly drastic happens in the next 30 minutes.
Is it always this bad? You may ask. My answer to you would be . . Well no.
Or answering the door because the dogs are barking and someone is knocking, only to look down and find our crazy chicken Recluse,who is pecking at the door because a stray cat is eating her cat food. Yes the chicken eats the cats food, but that's only after she's finished with the dog's. Odd thing that chicken.
But why, you say, would anybody ask for all that chaos? I believe, it is simply because I can. I'm all grown up, and no one can tell me no.
As a child I brought home every stray cat and dog in the neighborhood. I constantly housed frogs, snakes, bees and any other creature I could get my hands on. How I hated those words. "No Monica, no!"
Was 7 children due to lack of better judgement? Do I regret it now? Of course not! I couldn't properly function with out chaos. It's what makes my heart beat and my blood pump. Every day I have a challenge to overcome, and at the end of each day if I've succeeded. There is no greater satisfaction.
And if I haven't suceeded at the end of the day? Then I must be pregnant again, because during all 9 months of pregnancy our house is a shambles, we resort to frozen and fast foods, and I let all children sleep as late as they want. Instructing them to watch cartoons if they get up before me.
Now number seven will be here within the month. Last one we hope, what will life bring?
More chaos I'm sure. Though I don't know what could be worse than a messy dirty house filled with a daughters rescued cats (I wonder where she got that from?). Cats who ruin everything that we own, according to my husband, and a crazy chicken named recluse who roosts and poops atop my car hood every day.
Try to explain that one to the young kids working in the drive through coffee shop.
Today, If Life is All Surreal, then it's pushing the point of bad dreamdom. (Yes I just made that word up). Of course my husband would tell you, as soon as I eat, this thought will pass, and I will be looking through rose colored glasses once again.
MJB
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