This morning I asked my partner to bring his collection of midnight-snack dishes out of our bedroom and down to the kitchen. ... He forgot.
I asked him to empty all the overflowing garbages in the kitchen (recycling, garbage, organic waste). ... He did not.
I asked him to please put a new set of sheets on a bed that had been wetted. ... He ran out of time.
(In his defense, my partner is generally a very willing helper, and he was up til the wee hours of the morning working his second job. I can't really complain...)
The reason I asked him to do these things is because I find that upon waking I am immediately and completely engaged in feeding, clothing and placating four munchkins, all the while counting down to crazy hour when they've exhausted all possible activities in the house and have to get outside before they tear the place down. I need to have a tea and dress myself. Showering is optional. Everything else is just not happening.
But, I could foresee that the day would not run smoothly unless these minor domestic tasks were taken care of. Especially because we were having a "whining day," meaning throughout the day at least one kid was whining/crying/complaining/screeching at me. Usually two. Sometimes all four. I went through the day feeling like my head was going to explode.
|Quiet at last! Ah, videos....|
While I wrestled with the barely-stretchy mattress protector, I could hear the two-and-a-half-year old twins tormenting each other and the clanking of dishes on the table. I hoped it was dishes colliding with each other, and not dishes hitting the floor or being upended, which would send juice and food flying all over. Our youngest, meanwhile, feeling bereft, simply sat at the bottom of the stairs and wailed.
I then herded everyone upstairs (with everyone protesting) and tried to have them lie down (which only had them protest more). Leaving the baby to wail now from the upstairs gate, I ran down to make the multiple trips from the kitchen to the outside bins to empty our various garbages. (It may have been foolishness, but I opted to tackle the garbage, in order to A. clear space on the kitchen counter so I could remove dishes from the table, and B. avoid doing this during dinner prep when many clawing, whining beings would clutch at my legs as I went past.)
During one pass, I discerned that the smallest voice was strangely silent. It had been replaced by a faint tinkling sound --the sound of a bowl, a glass(!) and a spoon being used as playthings! Yes, the midnight-snack dishes had been discovered by tiny hands. Finishing with the garbage, I ran back upstairs to rescue the breakables.
From returning to the house to getting little people into bed, it had been 45 minutes. In addition to the other tasks I had done, I had also changed five diapers. (Only three kids in the house. I'll let you do the math.) Once the kids were safely cloistered, I went into the kitchen and screamed at the sink for a bit. Yes, I did.
|Notice there's no sheet on my bed --just part of the mayhem...|
Every parent has days like this. For me, today was one of those days. Here's to tomorrow!