Monday, August 26, 2013


That, my friends, is the sound of me pulling my hair out. Literally.

The older the kids get, the busier they get. The busier they get, the needier they get. The needier they get, the crazier I get.  It's a vicious cycle. A dangerous, vicious cycle.  Someone is going down or going crazy. I'm not sure who, or which.

Here's a play-by-play of the last 45 minutes of my life.  After dinner, I decided to prepare some freeze-and-heat breakfast sandwiches for Marty and I. Side bar: have you ever tried McDonald's "Egg White Delight" Egg McMuffin?  I have, and I'm not proud to say that. I HATE McDonald's. I drink their coffee, and that is it. But one morning, I was late for an appointment and desperate for coffee. As I went through the drive-thru, my stomach growled. I realized I wouldn't have time to eat before like 2 pm, so I ordered it. 250 calories, and it was delicious! Fast-forward to this past week, when I realized I could make and freeze my own McMuffins for a third of the cost and less processed crap (no, Michelle, I'm not eating clean yet. Clearly. Baby steps... :-).'s how it went down:
  • 5:45: I put my first egg white on to cook, put an English muffin in the toaster.
  • 5:51: Anderson comes running in from outside. "Mom, I need some milk!" I pour him some milk (after making him say please, of course).
  • 5:56: I start putting together the first sandwich.
  • 5:59: Anderson comes running in from outside. It's quiet. I yell at him, ask what he's doing. The door bangs again and he's gone.
  • 6:02: I pour more egg whites.
  • 6:03: Door bangs again. "Mom, I need to go potty!" Amelia this time. I tell her to get on the potty herself.
  • I wait, she starts screaming. She's stuck in her own underwear. I put the spatula down and help her. When she's done, I proceed to quickly brush/fix her hair. Dad has been doing better hair these days; today was NOT one of those days. It was a cross between this:
and this:
It required immediate attention.

  • 6:04: I quickly take sizzling brown egg white out of the skillet and throw more muffins in the toaster oven.
  • 6:08: Two muffins done! Out of six!
  • 6:09: Door opens and slams about five times. I sigh and prepare to do battle with Anderson, my serial door-opener (and fly-letter-inner). Walk over to the door angrily, ready for a fight.
  • 6:10: Amelia is standing there. "I gotta go potty!"  "Again? You just went!"  She whispers, "I gotta poop."  Sigh....I run and quickly turn cooking egg white, run back to wipe a butt. Yes, she's four, yes I wipe her butt.  I'd rather wipe a butt than clean up nasty undies.  I wash hands, go back to the kitchen.
  • 6:15: Swear to god, the door slams AGAIN. It's Anderson, claiming that he, too, needs to drop a deuce. Definitely starting to lose my cool here. I tell him that he just went to the bathroom and that if he comes in, he's staying in. He stares at me. I can see he really needs to poop. I sigh and tell him to HURRY UP!  He goes into the bathroom, then sticks his head out. He says, "I can still play outside later..."  "YES, Anderson, but you have to poop right NOW!"  No lie, we repeat those exact lines no less than TEN times. Finally, I shriek and shake my hands. He has the nerve to laugh.

I won't go on, people, because you see what it was like. Let's just say that it took me a good hour to finish six damn English muffins. Something that should have taken me 30 minutes tops.  With way too much butt-wiping in between.  So if you hear a loud scream in the distance tonight, don't worry. It's not a zombie attack. It's not coyotes, or criminal activity. It's just me, pulling out my hair and losing my mind. One minute at a time.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for the laugh this morning. It was definitely needed. Reminds me of this night: