A chuckle a day keeps the crazies away…
Oh, the sound of laundry, it just makes you want to cringe. At least it makes me want to cringe. I was never a fan, but I really began to dislike it when I had to start doing the kids’ cloths. Man, all those little shirts and underwear…they take forever to put away!
That being said, for some reason, changing the bedding is really something I drag my feet on. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’m lifting heavy weight or racking my brain to find a cure for cancer. It really doesn’t even take that long. But, for some reason, I really hate to do it.
Does anyone else feel this way, or is it just me being a baby? I know it’s mostly me being baby, for sure. But does anyone out there have similar feelings?
It’s the whole act, pulling the covers off, balling them up, hoping they all wash and fully dry. Then having to pull the sheets on…often times, for some reason, the sheets are a VERY tight fit. Then you have multiple blanket levels in my house to contend with. And forget about all the animals, pillow pets, assorted misplaced toys, etc. on the kids beds. There’s hardly anywhere else to put all the stuff coming off those beds. It’s like a clown car for kid paraphernalia! It’s amazing how normal the beds look before and after you make the beds.
I don’t know, it’s probably just me. But…I’m just saying…bedding laundry is just not my cup of tea. But it gets done anyway, darnit! You betcha I’m an American hero.
Source: Shanken News Daily
A chuckle a day keeps the crazies away…
Is it me? Is it just my kids? Am I just insane? Or does it seem like each and every day is the first time your kids have ever lived a day before…at least when it comes to things like getting ready for school or cleaning things up.
I mean, it’s the same story every morning. Does this sound about right?
Kids wake up and try to sneak into the living room to watch TV. I get up and start getting breakfast and their lunch ready. Once it’s ready, I tell them to sit down. They ignore me, in a trance. I say “turn it off, time for breakfast.” After 3 times, I get angry and then they look at me, dazed and puzzled, as if to say “what do I do with said breakfast, and why do I need to do it right now?” I then have to remind them that we have to get ready and go to school. Again. As usual. There’s a meek and faded sense of acknowledgment at that point. We then have to actually have them accept the food that is given to them (“daddy, I wanted X”/”daddy, I don’t like Y”). Then we have to have them eat, without spilling it all over and without annoying the crap our of each other in the process. Once that is done, it’s vitamin time…a good time since it’s all like candy (gummy, goodness I must say). Then, it’s time to wash up. Inevitably at this point, there’s whining and the questions of “why do I have to wash up?” and “do I have to wash up right now?” Again, I remind…school. After that (yes, you do have to wash your hands, your face, and brush your teeth) is completed, we have to dress them. This is a process, usually with my daughter who has to wear frilly, swirly dresses even when it’s snowing outside. Throughout the process I keep reminding them that we have to hurry or we’ll be late. Late? Late for what? We have to be somewhere, and at a certain time? Really?
It’s remarkable, it’s constant, and it’s something I cherish being able to do each morning. I know it will end soon, so despite the madness and fits of rage, I do try to enjoy every minute of it…right down to the piggy back walks to school and the kisses good bye. These are good times. Fleeting and good.
It truly amazes me how loud my kids are. They are so little yet so loud. I mean, really, truly loud. I mean, really truly most of the time. It never ends. Unless they are engulfed in a TV or Nintendo DS induced coma, they are loud.
I have tried to measure this phenomenon. The ratio of loud to body mass index is off the charts. It’s like solving for the true value of Pi (not that round of stuff). It could very well be man’s greatest mystery.
I’m sure it’s perfectly normal, I’m sure every kid is like that. I’m sure I was like that, as well as you. But, really, how? How is it possible?
From the minute they wake up to the last gasp before bed. I ask them to keep quiet because mommy is sleeping. That lasts for 28 seconds. I ask them when I’m on the phone. That lasts 31 seconds. They truly forget. I don’t think it’s a malicious attempt at getting attention or at irking me. They are just loud, by nature. Like a pack of wild dogs.
Sometimes, like in the bathroom, I feel my eardrums being demented. I have to cover my ears. It’s like a sonic boom, warping my brain. It could be a weapon vs. terror. Have one kid in a bathroom on every plane, then pipe the sound in if something is going down. Problem solved.
The only time they are not really loud and not entranced is when they are trying to hide from me or do something they should not be doing. With the hiding, they forget, too, though…and start making noise so I find them after 33 seconds. Doing something naughty…that’s pretty solid silence.
Am I crazy here? Does anyone know how this is possible? I, and my sanity, would just love to find out.
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