Fairy Tales

The Princess And The Pea-The Mommy Version

Once upon a time, there was a Mommy, who, after cooking, cleaning, shuttling to and from school, and doing laundry on three hours of sleep, decided to put her feet up for a few minutes and play a game on her phone.  You know, the ones she had thought to download so the kids wouldn't drive her crazy in any given waiting room, but they never worked there, because there was no WiFi service at the doctor's office (First World Problem).

She couldn't get comfortable.  What was the problem?  Her back hurt from bending and stooping.  Her knees hurt from the thousands of trips up the stairs.  Maybe that was it.  Her phone needed to get plugged into the charger.  Where were her reading glasses?  She put everything down, and closed her eyes for a second.  "What is wrong with this couch, anyway," she thought, "besides the fact that it is over 10 years old, and we have four kids and a dog that treat it like the bouncy house in the county fair?  God, I hope we don't have to buy a new couch, or I'll have to put off going to the hairdresser's for another year."

It was quiet.  Too quiet.  Something, somewhere, was wrong.  She just knew it.  She tried to ignore it, and the running To-Do list that immediately ran through her head any time she closed her eyes.

As if sensing the fact that their mom was about to get comfortable, all four children and the dog were on her as if pulled by invisible magnets, and tried to simultaneously get on her lap.

"What are you doing?" they asked in wonder.  They'd never seen her do such a thing before.

"Can I watch TV?"

"Can I play a game on your phone?"

"Can I have a snack?"

"Mom, the baby pooped!"

"Mama!  Want juice!!"

The only one who didn't ask for anything, was the dog, which was why, sometimes, he was her favorite.

So she struggled to get out from under the pile, turned the TV on for one, plugged in her phone and handed it to another, dispensed Goldfish, gave another juice, and continued the never-ending game of hide and seek she had going with the box of baby wipes so she could change the baby (the box won every time.), while being followed by the dog who was hoping that some food that would make his dog food more appetizing would be involved.

She found her reading glasses, now that she didn't need them, of course.  She put them somewhere, telling herself that she'd remember where they were, this time (She wouldn't.).  She discovered that, the reason the kids had all been so quiet was because they were, silently trashing one of the bedrooms by covering it in Legos and bed sheets.  It looked like the room had been robbed, but nobody had taken anything.

While the Mommy was simultaneously changing the baby and playing with the dog (because if you sit on the floor, you MUST want to play, right?), her daughter managed to spill juice all over the couch, so she then got out the steamer with the upholstery attachment, and began to tackle the mess.  Since it was a nice day outside, the Mommy decided to take the wet cushion, and put it outside to dry faster...

...and discovered 10 gazillion matchbox cars that were sitting there under the cushion, where the baby had squirreled them so his sister couldn't play with them.

Relieved at the thought that they could put off buying a new couch, and taking it as a sign, she scheduled her next haircut.  Sure, they couldn't take her for another two weeks, and she would have to cancel the appointment twice, and finally give up at the last cancellation, but for the purpose of this story, the scheduling of the appointment is the happy ending, ok?

Author's Note:  This is a work of fiction.  If this had been a factual story, the Mommy would have been interrupted mid-phone call, by her husband, asking her to stop everything and find 40 gazillion receipts to fax out immediately for their Flex Spending account using a fax machine that would make you think longingly of the days of carrier pigeons.  And she would have entirely forgotten about the hair appointment in the process.

Monday's Musings

Why is it if little boys are peeing, they chose that particular time to run?  Up the stairs?  Throughout the part of the house that is carpeted?  Isn't peeing supposed to be a sedentary endeavor?

I used to be able to fall asleep during the middle of a section five basketball game.  Where did that skill go?

It is really difficult to change a diaper on a wiggly toddler while a dog insists on a rousing game of "Fetch."

The only running this body is going to do is if it pointed in a direction away from home.

Proof that you are on autopilot:  You're still clearing the table on Mother's Day.

Munchkin Logic:  You should not wear black and decide to treat the kids to Dunkin' Donuts Munchkins unless you want to look like you rolled in sugar glaze. 

You should never let a child go to a vaccine appointment when they are coming down from a sugar high.  Nor should you attempt to go to the grocery store after both of these scenarios.  This is something I should already know, but in an insane instance of hubris, decided to try and tackle "just a few things."  I was shown how completely foolish I was.  Again.  We are probably not allowed back in Wegman's for a very long time.

Carrot and Stick (addendum)

If you remember, on Thursday, my son (a card carrying member of Dawdler's Anonymous, and has turned getting distracted into an Art Form) got ready for school, and even set the table for breakfast if it meant that he could play Mine Craft on my new iPhone before going to the bus.  He got everything done before he even woke us up in the morning at 7am. (For those of you not negotiating the school system yet:  Yes, unless I am willing to lower my standards and say OK to bedhead, looking like they got dressed in the dark, and a stunning lack of nutrition before school, that is the time we have to get up in the morning to get everyone out to the bus stop on time.  When you have four kids, people already think you don't have your $^!# together.  I like to keep my lack-of-together a little more subtle than that, so I get up early.  We tolerate enough raised eyebrows in this neighborhood, I like to save it for something better than a lack of a locatable hairbrush.)

He was dressed, hair was brushed, breakfast was eaten, his bed was made, teeth were brushed, and backpack was ready to go.  (This never happens without a LOT of yelling on my part.  It is a big deal.)

I felt like Mom of the Year, and thought I might possibly have all this Positive Reinforcement thing down.  In my mind, a career as a Motivational Speaker was in the works, until I had to mop up a bottle of spilled juice a few minutes later.  It's hard to be motivational when you are trying to prevent Niagara Falls from getting on the carpeting.

Day two of my iPhone Magical Motivation Incentive was a total backfire...because Cake realized that, the earlier he got up, and the faster he got through everything, the longer he could play on my phone...right?

So on Friday, he proceeded to wake up at 5am and begin his new routine.  I woke to him hovering over me like a vampire at 6:03.  I am a person who believes that there is a vast difference between 6:03 am and 6:30am when it comes to mornings.  In my groggy state, I could see the crazed look in his eye, so I handed over the phone, and told him that if he ever woke me at 6am again, his Mine Crafting days were doomed.

 

I came down to the table set (with napkins, even!), cereal poured for everyone, and a video game addict hovered on the couch getting his fix.

At least it wasn't Saturday.

 

 

 

On the plus side, we are starting lessons this weekend, for him to learn to make the coffee in the morning.  If I work this right, I'll have my own personal barista.

 

Carrot and Stick

This weekend, I was made to see how technologically challenged I've become, by the sheer fact that I'm not in the work force and have no real viable need to keep current on the latest and expensive greatest things life has to offer.  Going to the store was necessary, though, since my phone completely died on me:  I lost all my contacts, and my phone, in utter strike mode, decided to make me and everyone I'd ever spoken to on it completely miserable by dialing them at random, with no provocation.  I was overdue for an upgrade (several years ago), so I figured, after the sales geek guy laughed his @$$ off at the antique phone I pulled out of my bag, I would go for the newest technology I could get.  Let's face it, the next phone I'll get will probably be years from now, and will probably turn into a car or something.

So I got an iPhone5

 

(insert angels singing here)

There were several reasons that went into the decision.  My husband travels a lot for work, and since he has one for work, I wanted the kids to be able to use Face Time with him.  I'd also seen the ads for Siri, and loved the idea of a Personal Assistant in whatever form she may come in (Although, I still wish you could change her voice to sound like Carson, the Butler).

I was so excited when I got it, I was scared to touch it.  In normal cosmic reaction to life in general, my husband's travel schedule changed so that he is working from home for the foreseeable future, so the whole Face Time app is gathering dust.  And Siri, who still flatly refuses to call me "Milady" and be British, doesn't seem to understand a word I'm saying.  Much like with the children, it's like I'm speaking a different language entirely with her.  I would probably have better luck making myself understood if I had someone who didn't speak English at all but was actually in the room, could see me play the Italian version of Charades, and human to boot.

She seems to have absolutely no trouble understanding my husband though the bitch.  He decided, to be funny, and say something rude to her, and her response was a very scolding "Now, now."  I think the phone turned cold and laser beams shot out too, because the effect was he was so surprised, he almost dropped the phone.  Apparently, she may not speak Carson The Butler, but she does a beautiful job of speaking Catholic School Nun.

So while I am still learning what my phone can do, my kids are teaching me daily what fun it can be.  My daughter has been appropriating it after school so she can Face Time with her best friend (you've never seen anyone get through homework so quickly!).  And my son, who has been angling for us to get the game Mine Craft for days, was trying so hard, I felt guilty enough that I found a free version and downloaded it on my phone.  He was so excited, he could barely sleep knowing that I was going to let him play it before school if he got everything done before it was time to leave for the bus.

The kid woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, made his bed, and got everything ready for everyone else's breakfast before 7am.  I had forgotten to set my alarm, so he woke us all up.  Once I'd found out what he'd accomplished, I handed over the phone (See?  It's POSSIBLE for them to get out the door without you suffering brain damage, IF the right motivation is dangled before them!  Either that, or it really is the end of the world, and we all need to get ourselves to confession.).  Fortunately, a reminder popped up immediately that I had to get Foofoofee to the school early for an Orchestra Rehearsal, and luckily, he stopped playing long enough to let me know that the reminder had come up, or she would have been late.

But the technology is great.  I've used the shopping app for my grocery store (where has that little piece of organizational amazement been all my life?), and while it didn't prevent me from losing 12 rolls of paper towel off the bottom of my shopping cart after I'd already paid for them, it DID help me to get through the store faster since it organized my list to the order of the store.

I'm hooked, and if I can pry it away from my kids, I'll probably be an organizational wonder. 

Now if it could only do laundry....

So what apps can you not live without?  Leave a comment and share the wealth!!

Hazards of The Spin Cycle

Monday, I officially sustained my second ER visit, thanks to my nemesis: Laundry.  While picking up the dirty clothes that get thrown downstairs in the basement, I came up and knocked my head into the bannister, putting a nice sized gash in my noggin.  Thankfully, I have a lot of hair, so you can't see it.  I was on the phone with my friend at the time (because I always do laundry when I'm talking to her.  It's just our thing.) so I was moving fast, and multitasking as usual. 

There was cursing. 

I saw stars (and they weren't the glow-in-the-dark ones in the kid's bedrooms).

I had to sit down (so you know it was bad.). 

When my husband came home, he freaked out at the size of the gash and insisted that we go to the ER.  The conversation was a little funny:  It being on the back of my head, I couldn't seem to make him understand that I couldn't see it to know how bad the gash actually was.  I just knew I was dizzier than usual.  But I was fine.  Just fine.  This dinner wasn't going to prepare itself, right?