I got up this morning early. At least to me. Havilah has decided morning starts at 6:30 am.
I felt I got a good start.
I did some cleaning, as the in-laws were stopping by this afternoon.
The hubby left for a side job with one little helper, so I had baby Havilah and one boy.
Not too bad.
Lunch got done.
Hubby came home, boys watched a movie and Havilah napped.
Not too shabby.
Danny begins his crazy-show off-don't listen-be intrusive behavior, because we now have visitors.
After ignoring his father several times, his father removes him from the room and sends him upstairs. This... this blatant ignoring of us, when we are speaking right to him - right infront of him has been going on for weeks... And to put it mildly - We. Have. Had. ENOUGH.
So I decide I don't care if I see looks of disaproval becuase he has been sent upstairs.
The visit eventually ends. (Yes, Danny got to come back down stairs.)
I do the dishes that are in the sink.
Then get everything ready and dinner in the oven.
I wash the prep dishes.
I get dishes unloaded from the dish washer... try and clean random things.
Dinner is insane.
Dinner is done.
Hubby leaves for firehall.
Children get baths after much craziness, they are in jammies.
I put on music for dancing, as there is not enough time before bed for a movie.
I try and explain why punching is NOT a part of dancing.
They don't seem to get it.
I try to explain that hitting each other with stuffed animals is not a part of dancing.
They still seemed confused.
Havilah goes to bed and falls asleep. Amen.
I try to read a blog that always makes me smile.
I look at the picture on the blog of this lady's "messy kitchen".
I laugh, becuase it looks like my kitchen, when I think mine is clean.
Boys fight enough that it is now bed time.
I instruct them to be quiet so Havilah doesn't wake up.
(Why wasn't my first child the light sleeper?! That would have been do-able!)
Children are tucked in bed. I start sewing.
I hear noise, too much noise.
I hear Havilah cry.
I throw my scissors at the table. (Because I am uber mature.)
I go upstairs - Loudly. Stomping. So they know I'm coming, and they know I'm mad.
(Because, I don't need to be quiet - Havilah is already awake.)
I proceed to loudly tell them I will throw each and every one of their stuffed animals out the window if they continue this behavior.
(I do this because it is the mature thing to do.)
I take Havilah downstairs and cuddle her.
I try to savor this time.
I focus on not thinking about how I wanted to sew. How I need time to breathe.
I tickle her little back, let her play with my hair, and just snuggle her.
After a while, I start back upstairs, I hold her and walk into the boys room announcing that she is going to bed, and I better not hear one peep.
I lay her in her crib, she rolls over and tugs her blankie close.
I go back downstairs, and decided to get on the computer to tell you all this.
Aren't you thrilled?!
Now I am going back to sewing. I hope.