Afternoons

So afternoons at our house usually consist of me on the verge of a mental breakdown, Olivia whining and crying because she doesn't take naps anymore and really should take naps and Liam waking up from his nap ready to go.... This afternoon was no exception.



Thursdays is my dad's day to visit. He comes over around 3:30pm and stays for dinner. Throw him into the mix and you have a full blown "Paar-tay!". All kidding aside, he is a great man and I love him dearly and I have learned to realize that he really does know a thing or two about raising kids. My dad walks in to Olivia having a tantrum over nothing, Liam on his play mat cheerios and toys strewn everywhere and me trying to breath through an anxiety attack.

Where is Bill you ask? Oh out back fighting with a backhoe trying to dig out the yard for our pool- the backhoe was winning. Any who, I make idle conversation with my dad while trying to ignore the aches and pains of my body, especially my back. I know it is from starting back at the gym but I thought it would ease my anxiety as I could explain away all the pain- NOT! I really felt like every muscle/organ in my body was going to explode and I was going to drop dead.

Olivia has busied herself with play doh and has invited my father to sit down and play with her- heaven forbid he invite himself to sit down and offer to play she would have a meltdown. Liam is crawling now and getting over pink eye and a cold and has been very fussy. Whenever he sees me he can now crawl to me while he whines (but he is so cute). I am trying to prepare dinner- steak on the grill, salad and french fries. I put Liam in his high chair with his dinner and start to make the salad. Olivia sees me get the salad out and insists on helping- which normally I don't mind but today I just want to get it done (I am a bad mother I keep thinking to myself simultaneously while I am thinking that my spine is going to degenerate right now and I will be paralyzed). Olivia does a great job picking the stems off the spinach and mixing the red onions and tomatoes in while my father is still sitting playing play doh and watching Nick Jr. I finally stop and tell my father that I am in pain and having anxiety. He understands as he suffers from this disorder as well and immediately starts helping me calm down. He diminishes my fears and validates my pain as muscle pain from working out. I ask my dad to feed Liam his yogurt while I sit down and try to relax. My dad starts to feed him and gets more all over Liam's face then Liam does when he feeds himself. I take over and my dad continues to talk to me and rub my back. Olivia is talking to us but I am not really paying attention to what she is saying and agree with pretty much everything, "uh-hu, okay Olivia, good job (I don't know if she even warranted a good job but whatever). I am finally feeling better and thank my father for his help and support. I come back to reality and realize that Liam not only has yogurt on his face but in his ear and hair AND Olivia got the bag of potato chips out of the pantry and is happily sitting on the couch, watching TV eating chips- Did I black out?! I quickly try to regain control but give up as I am tired, hungry and need to get dinner on the table before midnight. I put Liam on the floor in the kitchen with a wooden spoon and mixing bowl- he could not be happier banging away.



"I want one!"



"Of course you do Olivia."



I hand her a wooden spoon and mixing bowl too and it gets LOUD. My poor father, who is starting to have a hard time hearing has to leave the kitchen. Salad made and fries in the oven, I get the steak on the grill. I come back in from outside and Olivia is in Liam's high chair, my dad trying to adjust the straps to fit her and Liam is now banging on the kitchen cabinets with his wooden spoon.



I NEED a VACATION! by myself.



I am in and out of the house over the next 15 minutes cooking the steak and don't care that Olivia is eating cheerios in Liam's high chair and Liam is now trying to pull himself up to the high chair because he sees food. I go to check on the fries in the oven and SNAP- the oven handle comes completely off in my hand- REALLY?!



I now try to pry the oven open with no handle to save the fries. Oven mitts on, I open the stove by the side and rescue my fries. Thank goodness they are done and I can just shut off the stove and leave the handle resting peacefully on the counter for Bill to deal with later. Dinner is done, Bill comes in and sees the stove handle. Liam is crying, my dad is waiting patiently for his dinner and Olivia is now complaining that she doesn't want steak for dinner- I turn around to see that Bill feels now is the appropriate time to fix the stove handle- Do you not register the chaos that is happening? AND the oven is still hot!- Moron. I breath to myself and through gritted teeth with a very, very forced smile on my face ask Bill to leave the handle for later.

Of course the second I finally sit down to eat Liam is done eating and starting to cry, Olivia needs more steak (which now she likes) and the cat jumps up on the table. I get Olivia her steak, shoot Bill a look that says, "if you don't do something to calm Liam right now I am leaving" and throw the cat downstairs. Bill quickly finishes his dinner and takes Olivia and Liam to the bath. I am finally left to eat my dinner with my father. I apologize for our chaotic lifestyle and he just laughs. He knows- for God sakes he should be a saint! He and my mother had to raise me.

My father gone, the kids in bed, the stove handle fixed and I reflect back on my afternoon. I realize that as crazy as it can get sometimes, this is my life and my memories and I would not change it for one second.

Getting out of the house

I wake up with the intention of going out and getting some errands done. And the mad dash to get out of the house before 10am begins.... I would like to be home by noon to give my kids a nice wholesome lunch but happy meals on the road and naps in the car it will probably be. PS I usually get up between 7am and 8am so you would think 2 to 3 hours would be plenty of time to get out of the house- not here.



I need my cup of coffee which I have already said I can't drink without reheating at least 3 times- have to feed Liam who is happy to eat anything these days and fight with Olivia to have something besides chips or cookies for breakfast.



"you want what? a frozen waffle? sure. Here ya go."



Then change and dress Liam and then try to get Olivia dressed. Now at almost 3 she has to do EVERYTHING herself. I have given up on making her clothes match- if she will put it on it works for me. Then the battle for me to get into the shower ensues. I used to put Liam and Olivia in my bed watching TV while I got in the shower- not anymore. Little miss independent needs to stay out in the "ligy" room as she calls the living room and Liam is rolling all over. I have to give in to Liv because I'd rather spend 5 minutes setting her up with a movie and toy then 20 minutes arguing with her and bribing her into my room. I then carry the exersaucer, usually with Liam in it into my bedroom and get into the shower as Liam is crying.



"Olivia can you come in here and play with your brother, please?!"



I get into the shower and try to enjoy my 5 minutes of solitude (yeah, right) and then I start hurrying up because I am frantically picturing Olivia getting into something she is not supposed to- every couple of minutes I am called her, from the shower to come in and answer some inane question I make up just to make sure she is okay. I get out of the shower and start yelling again for her to come in and get her hair done and brush her teeth. Several times have I run out to the living room naked when she hasn't answered me thinking something terrible happened only to find her playing or engrossed in her show. One day I will run out naked just as the oil guy or UPS man shows up.

She finally gets into the bathroom and my test of patience begins again-

"here brush your teeth."

"no, I want to put the toothpaste on.."

"okay, let me wet your hair down."

"no. I want to do it!"

arrgghhhh.

Liam is really fussing now and I dump a load of Puffs (aka baby crack) onto the tray of the exersaucer. This buys me about 5 more minutes. As I send Olivia back out of the bathroom so I can finish getting ready I notice her socks and shoes are off.... Really?!

I am finally ready. I try to look decent to go out but I know that I probably look like a hot mess, especially because I am sweating profusely from the mommy marathon that has ensued since I have gotten out of the shower. I don't know why I even bother. I refuse to stop in front of the mirror because I would just be horrified and since I have made it this far to get out of the house I am not going to let MY appearance stop us. I get Liam and head towards the door....

"Liv, let's go. Olivia. OLIVIA ANN NOW!"

I head back to her room and find her clothes from her dresser strewn everywhere, her pants off but two pairs of underwear on and she is concentrating very hard on putting a different pair of pants on.

"Mommy, I wanted to wear my pink pants."

I don't even have words at this point. She finally gets dressed (after I am told to leave the room because she can do it HERSELF- at these times I know my mother is laughing from heaven saying, "I told you... just wait until you have a little girl of your own.") I walk out of her room and firmly tell Liam that he MUST stay a baby FOREVER!

Olivia finally presents herself and I am trying to be patient. "let's go."

"okay, but I need my baby and her stuff."

"no. Let's go!"

She grabs her baby and starts stuffing her purse full of God knows what and heads towards the door.

"Mommy, this stuff is heavy. Can you carry it?"

Sure let me just get my bionic arms going- holding Liam, the diaper bag, my purse and not Liv's entourage. LET'S GO!

We make it to the car and Liam is in.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"of course you do."

Back into the house, pee and back out to the car we all go.

Finally the kids are in the car and I start to hand Olivia her "have to have" toys...

"no, I don't want them. Can you put them on the floor?"

I wish I could tell you where I'd like to put them but that would probably be a CPS report....