Which, I guess, it can be at times.
Shaun and I have exactly enough arms for four kids. So, when he's home, we can run the roost with relative efficiency. It's when he's gone and I'm severely outnumbered that the fun starts. The very first day he went back to work and left me
And then, my beloved sister-in-law arrived with my nephew and niece to offer help with the transition.
So I sent the 3 biggest kids off to play in our basement playroom with their cousin and we stayed upstairs to hang out with the babies.
Oh, I guess here's a good moment to mention that we used to have a sandbox in our basement. With sand. LOTS of sand. (Yes, that's thanks to my slightly insane, but uber creative husband. He figured, what fun is a beach party without sand? And since you can't have a beach party outside in mid-January, he decided he'd bring the sand in for my 5 year old. She was delighted. Of course).
So yes. We had a sandbox. In the basement. But because the sand had a tendency to travel EVERYWHERE and kick up a ton of dust, I banned the kids from playing in it. They really did remarkably well listening over the course of weeks following the party, though occasionally, I'd have to fish Sayer out and redirect him.
Anyway, after 30 minutes or so of the kids playing awesomely together, Lex and her 5yo cousin, T, came racing upstairs and yelled in the same breath, "CALY AND SAYER ARE THROWING SAND AT US!!"
And then they giggled.
I was wrapping up a feeding session with my little guy and and was decidedly not as amused.
Then? Then Caly came upstairs. Covered. Head to toe. With sand. And? She was smiling.
"Caly. Were you throwing sand?"
"Yes" She grinned widely.
The urge to crack up was competing furiously with the urge to yell at her.
So I hid behind a pillow.
Then? Sayer came up. I thought Caly was covered... yeah, Sayer was COVERED.
"I DROW SAND, MAMA! I DROW SAND!"
I stayed behind my pillow, now shaking with insane giggles.
Lex piped up a few seconds later,
"Oh, Mama? You might get mad... they threw sand all over the bed in the spare room."
Oy.
I hauled myself off of the couch and went down to investigate.
If a crime of passion occurred between a starfish and a hermit crab, I think there would have been less sand strewn. It was EVERYWHERE. In between the sheets of the spare bed. On the bookshelves. In the closet. Sand exploded everywhere.
It was insanity.
Thankfully, Michelle was there to help me corral the kids into a bath and bed. A short time later, the basement was cleaned and the sand relocated to our deck, (by my handy hubs).
So yes, life with 4... you were wondering? Now? Now you know.
Someone pass me some coffee. I've a feeling I'm going to need it from here on out.
Hehe. I hate sand. Hate it. Except at the beach. Where it should stay. Forever.
ReplyDeleteI hate sand anywhere. Even at the beach. I'm so glad I have a good friend like you from whom I learn to be more laid back and let kids have messy fun. But sand is still out of my comfort zone :-) Also, you are awesome for laughing and not yelling :-)
ReplyDeleteIf only you had a handy way to WEAR your coffee, perhaps helmet style? :)
ReplyDelete