I have a planning conference call next week scheduled for after bedtime and I suspect here’s how it’ll go down:

I’ll set two reminders: one for a day before and one for 5 minutes before.

The first reminder will remind me to keep the kids from napping the day of the conference to ensure that they go right to sleep, possibly even a little early.

Despite my best efforts to keep her awake, K-Mad will inevitably fall asleep on the couch around 4, while I’m cooking dinner and helping Lady J with her homework.  I’ll move K-Mad to her bed, but without a nap time diaper. She’ll wake up 20ish minutes later, soaked from head to toe, thus adding to the continuous laundry cycle, which is often more dependable than the life cycle of a frog you learn about in third grade.

Speaking of frogs, her blankie “Froggie” will also be soaked and in need of a bath with her bedding and clothes. This will cause an uproar of epic proportions… And another tantrum hours later when she realizes I forgot to move the load into the dryer and it’s bedtime. But the actual time won’t matter much because her 20 minute cat-nap was just long enough to fuel her well into the night…

Bud will stay awake for the long haul, but around 4:30, 4:45, 5:00, 5:01, and 5:06 I’ll remember why he still kinda needs a nap, and internally weigh the options of the nap/no-nap dilemma for the gazillionth time.  He’ll go to sleep early without much of a fight, but then wake minutes before the call as though it was just a nap, not actually bed time. He won’t require much: just a banana, a back rub, warm milk, and a spot in our bed, right between us, to watch TV while he enjoys his “midnight” snack.

Lady J will have gone to bed on time, but will still be awake, singing to her stuffed animals. Unfortunately, she and Bud share a room, so you know the rest…

All of these shannanigans will have caused me to be out of my room and to miss the second alarm reminding me of the call.

After several back-and-forths, ups-and-downs, and about another hour, Mr. TheKing and I will finally have all three kids in bed, hopefully sleeping.

I will then proceed to pack lunches, fold laundry, write in their journals, and possibly (probably) pour a glass of wine (vodka). I’ll retire to our bedroom and attempt to unwind, veg out, and finally, sleep.

Minutes after I am finally asleep, AT LEAST one child will show up in our bedroom, carrying their own pillow and blanket to be set up on our floor. I will help them get settled and glance at my phone realizing that I missed the call…

#lifewithkids #murphy #callingit

2.5.15

That moment when you’ve done all the laundry in the world because you’ve been stuck at home for days on end due to a wintry mix of snow, ice, and sick children but it’s all good because the only thing left for you to do to prepare for an almost-impromptu family weekend to our nation’s capital city is pack but then you take a moment to cuddle and put on Mr. Rogers for your newly-potty-trained child who has been potty training herself for over a year but likes to do things in her own way and time but you think, hope, and pray that this might honestly, truly, and finally be the real deal and you both fall asleep in your bed because you have a recent aversion to coffee and the kids don’t believe in sleeping when they’re sick or well for that matter so staying awake is a challenge and when you wake up you realize she’s not wearing a nap-time diaper but you don’t want to disturb her because she’s had a fever for the past 2 days and she really needs her sleep full well knowing that she will have an accident when she wakes up which is exactly what happens 2 hours later and suddenly you have an infinite amount of laundry to do…again… #shannanagins365

7.1.14

I took the kids to Target. {It’s pronounced with a French accent and a soft ‘j’ instead of the harsh ‘g’ sound: “Tar-jay”, as if it may have possibly originated as a romantic and sophisticated petite shoppe in Paris, (pronounced Pa-Ree with a silent “s” as your tongue rolls the “ree”) because we’re fancy like that and besides, who doesn’t love Tar-jay?}

Anyway, I took all three kids, (because where else would they go?)  with me to get “a few” things. We were perusing* the isles for the items LEGITIMATELY on the shopping list.

{I promise, Honey, other than that one item, (which I purchased 4 of), everything REALLY was on the list…PLUS, I skipped 2 way more pricey items, thus making up for the 1 (x4) item.} (At least this is the reasoning that goes on in my mind.)

And, as a side note, Lady J had helped me write (and decorate) the list and was a constant reminder of what was actually on the list. So, so far, we were honestly, (mostly), sticking to it.

*Also, just to clarify, by “perusing” I mean that the kids had endured over an hour of actual helping to find the items on the list but we were now shopping on borrowed time and my youngest child was standing and serenading the store from the “front seat” of the cart because the buckle was broken and she can unhook herself in a New York minute anyway, while the older 2 were hanging off the side, jumping on and off the bottom level of the cart and touching EVERY. SINGLE. ITEM. we passed, all while I tried to avoid running them over or inadvertently turning sharply, resulting in a fallen child, loss of child’s toe, or toppled shelf…

Anyway, (deep breath), we were at the very end with just one more listed item to find. I could feel the tension and excitement mount as I neared the last obstacle, The Checkout Line.**

**It should be noted that The Checkout Line is an especially tricky obstacle to maneuver through with ease due to all of the tiny, hand-held, often-delicious temptations readily available for little hands to grab, but I am master of the word, “No,” and possess no less than 50 ways of saying it and actually adhering to it, thanks to those who ran the gauntlet before me and passed their skills along.

Ok, whew!

Now, I could taste the sweetness of imminent victory as I turned down the homestretch!

Suddenly, with each item we passed down the final sprint, tiny voices started trying to sell me items that were not listed:

“Hey Mom!” Lady J exclaimed,  “You should get this!  It’s oxi-clean and I hear it can really help keep our clothes brighter. It really works!”

Bud piped up, “Hey wook! Dat’s Cwowox Bweach! Dat’s fow wife’s Bweach-abwe moments!”

“Mom, I know we’re at Tar-jay,”{totally have them training for our future trip to Pa-Ree or an educational study abroad program in college} “but those stretch-kins are available at Walmart so we need to go there next because I’d really like one of those,” Lady J spewed out while practicing her not-quite-mastered negotiating skills.

“Oh! Mommy, did you awso see a Teddy Tank? I wike WEAWY wove doze. Can I pwease have one? I would put gum-baws oh candy in da bow, not a fish.” Bud advertised, batting is foot-long eye lashes and smiling his devilishly dimpled grin.

“I wike da one wif da fishy, Momma”  (Because who doesn’t love and need a teddy bear with a real built-in fish tank?!?!?!?!) “An I wike Dohnson’s baby wotion fo me skin!  It pink!” K-Mad joined in the barrage of ‘I wants’ and ‘gimmies’ with such charm and innocence that even I almost believed it and caved.

This trip was going downhill, fast, and The Checkout Line was the now only thing standing between me and having 3 children safely harnessed into their ultra safe, extra large, NHTSA & consumer report recommended car seats for a quiet drive home that would gently rock them into blissful naps with classical music and leave me with mere minutes of calm and serenity, so I chose the shortest line with the longest wait time, (what’s up with that, Murphy?!?!?!) and unloaded the cart onto the belt while the kids unloaded themselves EVERYWHERE…

Finally, (after what felt like an eternity of price checking, polite smiles through gritted teeth, silent WTFs, visible niceties, ‘no you can’t have that’s, ‘please don’t touch those’s, and ‘put that back now’s), I quickly bagged the final item, swiped my card, thanked the nice cashier lady, tossed the kids into the cart while using my mad-counting-to-three-skills and octopus-mom-arms, and made a beeline for the great outdoors known as the parking lot. 

The ride home was full of blaring classical music that did not successfully drown out the shouts and whines of three children who were not napping even a little bit. All I could think was that a trip to “Le Spa” should be in order after that trip to “Tar-jay” (but that’s not on the damn list!) 

As I pulled into the driveway 30 minutes later, Lady J promptly reminded me that we never did find that final item on The List…

#sonofa…!