And Then She Took My Book

The kids have a bad case of the crazies.

I'm blaming it on this heat wave we've been having that has been keeping us inside all week. (I know, complaining because it's too hot? I want to punch myself just for thinking it.)

The middle child has camp at 1:00 this week, and that combined with our now-standard lazy mornings leave a 90-minute dead zone in our day in between late breakfast and early lunch where there's not enough time to actually go anywhere and too hot to go outside. They play with each other long enough to fool me in to thinking I can get something done, then I'm halfway into a project when the whining / fighting begins.

Last night at dinner, they came down with a bad case of the overactive giggles, which led to spilled milk and spilled food and me screaming and the merriment just continued.

(Seriously, crazy! Like running around, bumping into each other and spouting nonsense crazy!)

We drove to an outdoor concert last night, once it was finally comfortable enough to be outside again. (More jumping, more crazy. Taking each others' shoes off and throwing them. Shouting potty words to make each other laugh.) We all got out of the car and I wondered out loud (maybe a little too loudly, the band may have heard me) if I should take them home and put them to bed, because I didn't know what else to do with them.

The concert was good. Being outside was good. I had a meeting to go to last night, so after the show I dropped them off at home with dad. But then I skipped the meeting to go shopping instead, because I just ... needed ... quiet. (Another benefit of Mothers & More? An excuse to go out every Wednesday night, even if I don't make it to the meetings.)

The crazies were still in full swing this morning, with sword fights, boxing matches and vaulting off the furniture. I planned ahead to get out as early as we could and go to our indoor (air-conditioned) gym that has inflatable equipment.

Peace.

The kids played. I read my book. I drank my tea and marvelled at how the white noise of the fans drowned out the screaming.

Peace.

For ten minutes.

Then Dora approached me with tears and a chipped tooth. (Permanent tooth, of course.) She had bonked heads with another kid in the bounce house. Crying, sobbing, assurances that everything will be okay, our friendly dentist will fix it right up (seriously, we have the BEST dentist). Eventually, she calmed down, but was done playing. And then she took my book.

So I picked up my phone and wrote this post.

PS. I know, wah-wah-wah, me and my poor problems. It's just been one of those days when lots of little things add up and I can't seem to get a break. Truth is, I am thankful and blessed to have three healthy children who have the energy to make me crazy every day. And thankful that eventually, they fall asleep, so I can love them again tomorrow.