Wednesday, September 11, 2013

I Blame the Kids

Not that I'm making excuses, but this is why blogging is a struggle for me each evening.
Here's a pretty typical glimpse of what goes on at my house when I sit down to blog:
Tonight, when we got home from church, I sent Buttercup upstairs to get ready for bed, Princeska to the dining room to finish her math homework, and Bass-Man upstairs to take a shower (how do teenage boys get so sweaty at BIBLE STUDY???).  Thinking I had a few minutes, I sat down at the computer to blog.  I, quite literally, didn't even have the web address typed in before it began...

Buttercup:  Mom, if I take headache medicine, will I have to go brush my teeth again?  (Seriously?  How good of a job can she possibly have done in 2.5 seconds?  Anybody know of any speed brushing contests I could enter her in?)
Me:  Do you have a headache?
Buttercup:  Yeah.  Wait...that's when your head hurts, right?
Me:  Yes. And, no, you won't have to brush again. (Yeah.  I caved as fast as she brushed.)

I get up and we walk into the kitchen where I pour her EXACTLY the right dose of children's ibuprofen (her teeth may rot out, but her liver will be just fine, thank you).  She verrrrryyyy slooooowwwwlllyyyy slurps the berry flavored goo out of the cup and then runs her tongue around the inside several times just to make sure she got it all.

Me:  Do you want to go watch a movie for a little bit?  Just until Princeska finishes her homework?
Buttercup:  Yes!  I know exactly which one I want!

I linger in the living room while she selects her movie, then I put it in for her.  Of course, she's chosen a VHS tape is all the way at the end.  As our ancient VCR grinds, squeals, and rewinds the movie so slowly a 90 year old sloth would get impatient waiting for it, Buttercup launches into a story about one of the little girls in her TeamKid class who doesn't recognize her even though they are VERY BEST FRIENDS.  I have surprisingly little wisdom to offer her, but I listen and I comfort.  FINALLY, the animated version of "The King and I" (which is every bit as awful as you are imagining) is fully rewound.  I start it up for her and then head back to my blogging.  
I managed to get signed in before...

Buttercup: (appearing at my elbow with the stealth of a mini ninja) Mom?
Me:  Yes? (I'm not gonna lie...I didn't even try to disguise my irritation)
Buttercup:  Are you doing anything terribly important?  (YES, my 5 year old really DOES talk like that.)
Me: (please insert long-suffering sigh here) What do you need?  (notice that I neither confirmed nor denied the terrible importance of blogging, thus retaining my right to declare its importance or frivolity based on her request...feel free to use that)
Buttercup: (who has sidled right up to me and is now leaning her head on my shoulder and running a hand up & down my arm...feel free to use that, too) Would you turn the fan off?  I'm getting chilly.
Me:  Sure.

I enter the living room and briefly consider pulling the ceiling fan chain until the fan is off but the light is still on, but abandon that idea out of pure laziness.  Instead, I walk all the way across the room to turn on a side-table lamp, then walk back across and shut off the fan/light combo with a flick of the switch.  Which, in retrospect, saved me neither time nor effort.  

Buttercup:  Aaahhhh!  That's so much better!
Me:  (turn around and get 3 whole steps)
Buttercup:  Mom?  Would you get me a cold cup of water?  (for reasons the rest of us don't understand and Buttercup declines to explain, she ALWAYS specifies that her water be cold...the request for a twist of lemon is probably just around the corner...after that, she'll be asking for "sparkling" or "flat")
Me:  (heavy sigh) Sure.
Buttercup: (calling after me as I walk into the kitchen to fulfill her majesty's wishes) And, no...I don't already have a cup somewhere.

I fetch and deliver Buttercup's water and sit back down at my computer.  Of course, at this point, I no longer remember the topic of the brilliantly witty blog that I originally sat down to write...I stare at the screen for a few minutes, then type out and subsequently delete several lame blog titles such as:  "My Day,"  "Blog Rhymes With Fog," and "Nothing Rhymes With Wednesday."  Clearly, titles aren't my forte, but, in my defense, you should probably have some idea of your topic before you try to come up with a title.  I started to mull over my day, trying to generate a blog topic more interesting than the massive amounts of laundry that occupied most of my time, but then Bass-Man walked in...

Bass-Man:  Hey, Mom!
Me:  Hey, Bub.
Bass-Man:  Are you feeling any better?  
Me:  Not really.
Bass-Man:  Are you using your phone?
Me:  No. (Here's a tip, fellow i-phone owners:  if you want to be able to put your phone down for more than 2 seconds without it disappearing and you have even one i-phone-less, i-pad-less child at home, do NOT download Minecraft.  Seriously.  I cannot emphasize that enough. DON'T DO IT.)

Bass-Man disappears with my phone and Buttercup re-appears at my side.  Honestly, they had to have crossed paths.

Me:  What's up?
Buttercup:'s you know anything about the school library?
Me: No. (I'm not proud of it, but I was hoping that would dissuade her from asking me whatever it was that she clearly wanted to ask me.)
Buttercup:  What would you do if everybody else in your class got a bookmark at the library except for you?   
Me:  Everyone got one but YOU??? (breathe, mama-bear, breathe...)
Buttercup:  Well, I don't know if it was EVERYONE, but I asked Leah and Karlee and they said she didn't just give you a bookmark, you had to ask for it...but we were already back in class when I noticed they had them, so I couldn't ask for one.
Me:  (urge to kill subsiding) Oh!  Well, I would just go ask for one the next time...okay?
Buttercup:  That's a whole week, Mom.
Me:  Maybe I have one you could use...or, maybe we could make one.  
Buttercup:  Can we make one?
Me:  Of course!
Buttercup:  Can we make it tonight?
Me:  (considerably less enthusiastic) Of course.

Buttercup and I raid the craft supplies.  I set her up at the table with paper, scissors, markers, and stickers.  Meanwhile, her movie is playing to an empty living room...but I'm not going in there to turn it off!  The ideal topic for tonight's blog has hit me...I'm going to be writing about the multitude of interruptions that I have to deal with when I try to do ANYTHING.  And I'm going to use tonight for an example!
I eagerly sit down and type out the title.

Princeska:  Mom?
Me:  Yes?
Princeska:  I'm finished with my homework except for one page.  I have to have a supervisor time me and listen while I do these problems...can you do that?  Or???
Me:  Sure...Bass-Man?
Bass-Man:  Yeah?
Princeska:  What did you say?
Me:  I'm talking to Bub!  I need to use my phone for a minute.
Bass-Man:  Okay...(not moving from the couch)
Princeska:  I have to do them all in THREE minutes.
Me:  Okay...
Princeska:  You said ONE minute.
Me:  (with Bass-Man in the living room and Princeska in the dining room, I'm looking back & forth like I'm watching an intense tennis match)  I was just saying that I needed to use it for a little bit...I didn't necessarily mean one, exact minute.
Bass-Man:  What?
Me:  Not you, Princeska...I need my phone!
Princeska:  I don't have it, Bass-Man has it!
Bass-Man:  Okay...(FINALLY walks in and hands me my phone)
Me:  Thanks.
Princeska:  For what?
(Bass-Man gives me a concerned look, like he's worried about my sanity...apparently my kids can't hear the precise frequency of each others' voices)

It went on and on, my friends.  A full two hours have now passed since I initially sat down to write this blog!  I have been interrupted approximately 10,000 times and have had to leave the computer 879 times. I have answered questions, listened to stories and complaints, offered advice.  I have put in movies, initiated crafts, and timed homework.  I have gotten drinks, found missing papers, and pulled out leftovers (poor J didn't get supper tonight).  And, FINALLY, I have blogged!



crabtrees said...

I think you need more children! Lol

emmafudd said...

I'd take one, Shannon, but I'd also need a wife!