Wednesday, oh Wednesday, you are so cruel yet kind. You let me know that I am halfway through the week, and yet, at the same time, still make me aware that I have 3 more days to get through. That half way thing is not really true until approximately noon. So close.
This week has been different from the others in that my son is home from school. It's amazing how different the dynamics of a household can be when you just add something as little as a 6 year old. You see, I am a routine creature. All of my days with the kids are built on routine. We take my son to school in the morning, come home and eat breakfast, feed the baby, the baby takes a nap while the other two play, we go outside (weather permitting), eat lunch, have "quiet time", pick up my son from school, feed the baby, play outside (weather thing again), clean up, and watch a little TV before the two little ones go home. The routine stays pretty much the same. What's different about our days are the activities we do, and the kids function really well with a routine.
But now it's all gone to hell. The baby, he's trying to keep his routine. The rest? Well, they're running upstairs slamming doors (I've told them not to, they stopped for a few minutes) and playing wildly. They were so wild, I sent them upstairs while the baby naps. My son is used to the fast-paced lifestyle of Kindergarten. They must be a mile a minute, because he's that way now. On the weekends, he's calm and lies around wanting to watch TV all day long. The weekdays, well, the weekdays are for running, evidently. And yelling, don't forget the yelling.
I'm hoping that by the time school is out for the summer, we can find a new routine that fits all four kids. One that doesn't involve so much running in the house and yelling words like poop, and can't catch me. And I'm not playing! (The girl likes to yell that one when the boys don't play exactly the way she wants to play. Such a little girl.)
Me, I'm busy with the cleaning up. And carrying the baby. Because, you see, I babysit a baby who is of the you-will-not-put-me-down variety. In fact, I have taken to referring to him as The Baby Who Will Not Be Put Down. Exersaucer? Nope. Blanket on the floor full of toys? Nope. Pack-N-Play? Are you crazy? That's too much like a crib, and a crib is for SLEEPING only. And the sleeping? Only done when rocked sufficiently for at least 15 minutes. He's a baby with requirements. And the requirements are making me ache. Because also, he's a baby who is heavy. But he's the baby, and what can you do. If you deny him, he will cry. And the crying, pitiful. The most pitiful crying you have ever heard.
Well, I better get back to the herd of elephants who are slamming doors upstairs. I'm hoping that maybe the elephants will want to watch TV. Don't children like to watch TV anymore? What happened to the generations of kids who were going to be so obese because they vegged out in front of the TV? I want those kids.