The half hour from hell.....
Background information first:
Today is election day and there is no school. B is 6 and C is 3. Both of them play an important part in this story. B woke up complaining of a yucky tummy this morning. He never even ate breakfast.
The meaty part:
It's 11:04 (ish) and we are watching Ellen. She has just danced and it's time for lunch. As a "treat" for the no school day I had gotten those Kid Cuisine thingies for lunch. C had pizza and pudding. B had mac/cheese and corn. Mmmmm... ick.
I heat the frozen meals up and sit the kids at the table in the breakfast nook with their lunches and a cup of oj each. Everything is going very peacefully. B and C are eating nicely and carrying on a conversation about some cartoon character. I smile at the peace. It's nice.
I shouldn't have smiled because at approximately 11:13 our little utopia is about to erupt into a fiery volcanic explosion.
B turns to look at the TV while picking up his cup of juice. Somehow the cup slips from his hand and the juice explodes everywhere. The wall, the window, the chair, the table, the floor. There is a good 5 feet diameter of juice.
The real explosion:
I start to freak out. I can't handle it. Between being pregnant and hormonal and feeling tired today and knowing this is the fourth BIG spill I've cleaned up in as many weeks.... Well, let's just say I lost it. And it wasn't pretty.
I look at the juice running down my nice creme colored wall and I start to cry. I look at the juice spilled all over my nice black fabric seat cover and I start to wail. I look at the juice sitting in the window sill and I start to sob. Like I said, it wasn't pretty.
I have no idea where to start. I want to wipe the juice from the wall first, to try and save the paint, but I cannot get there without wiping up the floor. I want to save my seat cover but have a juice covered kid sitting in the middle of it (um, he's in shock at this point I think.... his screaming momma probably had something to do with it).
Finally I just grab a towel and start smearing around the sugary juice and cry at the same time.
Wait... there's more:
C decides to have a bit of a smart lip and says "My ears hurt from all of this noise." I glare at him and proceed to scrub up the mess. The next thing I know I hear "Splat!" and C says "Whoa!" I look up and what do I see? His pizza face down on the floor in the middle of juice. Now this couldn't be a piece of dry, non-saucy pizza either. Nope. This is EXTREMELY saucy stuff. And where is the sauce? All over the floor too! Thank goodness it didn't hit the wall (at least something good came out of this ordeal)!
At this point I'm ready to run away and never come back. Juice, now pizza. How much worse can it get?
I pull it together and manage to clean up most of the kitchen, including the seat cover and the wall and window sill. I have sent B to the dining room (thank goodness we have more than one table!) to finish his lunch and he is happily eating his mac and cheese like nothing has happened. Meanwhile, I'm feeling horribly guilty for my actions and reactions. There is nothing like the guilt a mother feels when she knows she's blown her top....
Thought this was it didya? Wait there's even more:
At 11:31 (ish) the kitchen is looking better. I'm almost finished cleaning up and B has finished his lunch. He brings his trash in the kitchen and says "I'm done." I turn to look at him and notice he appears pale. Pale for him means sick; i.e. puke. I ask what's wrong and he says "I think I need to throw up."
Why me? What did I do this week to deserve such torture?
Thankfully he made it to the toilet but yes, he did throw up! Currently he is napping after I took his temp and found he had a low grade fever (guilt, guilt guilt!).
I've had some busy days in my life. But never has so much transpired within such a short period of time! I love my children with all of my being but there are days where I wonder why I'm being punished! And after my half hour from hell this morning I will wonder it again.
Now all I have to do is clean up my mess that I created by overreacting the way I did.... That's the worst part.
Today is election day and there is no school. B is 6 and C is 3. Both of them play an important part in this story. B woke up complaining of a yucky tummy this morning. He never even ate breakfast.
The meaty part:
It's 11:04 (ish) and we are watching Ellen. She has just danced and it's time for lunch. As a "treat" for the no school day I had gotten those Kid Cuisine thingies for lunch. C had pizza and pudding. B had mac/cheese and corn. Mmmmm... ick.
I heat the frozen meals up and sit the kids at the table in the breakfast nook with their lunches and a cup of oj each. Everything is going very peacefully. B and C are eating nicely and carrying on a conversation about some cartoon character. I smile at the peace. It's nice.
I shouldn't have smiled because at approximately 11:13 our little utopia is about to erupt into a fiery volcanic explosion.
B turns to look at the TV while picking up his cup of juice. Somehow the cup slips from his hand and the juice explodes everywhere. The wall, the window, the chair, the table, the floor. There is a good 5 feet diameter of juice.
The real explosion:
I start to freak out. I can't handle it. Between being pregnant and hormonal and feeling tired today and knowing this is the fourth BIG spill I've cleaned up in as many weeks.... Well, let's just say I lost it. And it wasn't pretty.
I look at the juice running down my nice creme colored wall and I start to cry. I look at the juice spilled all over my nice black fabric seat cover and I start to wail. I look at the juice sitting in the window sill and I start to sob. Like I said, it wasn't pretty.
I have no idea where to start. I want to wipe the juice from the wall first, to try and save the paint, but I cannot get there without wiping up the floor. I want to save my seat cover but have a juice covered kid sitting in the middle of it (um, he's in shock at this point I think.... his screaming momma probably had something to do with it).
Finally I just grab a towel and start smearing around the sugary juice and cry at the same time.
Wait... there's more:
C decides to have a bit of a smart lip and says "My ears hurt from all of this noise." I glare at him and proceed to scrub up the mess. The next thing I know I hear "Splat!" and C says "Whoa!" I look up and what do I see? His pizza face down on the floor in the middle of juice. Now this couldn't be a piece of dry, non-saucy pizza either. Nope. This is EXTREMELY saucy stuff. And where is the sauce? All over the floor too! Thank goodness it didn't hit the wall (at least something good came out of this ordeal)!
At this point I'm ready to run away and never come back. Juice, now pizza. How much worse can it get?
I pull it together and manage to clean up most of the kitchen, including the seat cover and the wall and window sill. I have sent B to the dining room (thank goodness we have more than one table!) to finish his lunch and he is happily eating his mac and cheese like nothing has happened. Meanwhile, I'm feeling horribly guilty for my actions and reactions. There is nothing like the guilt a mother feels when she knows she's blown her top....
Thought this was it didya? Wait there's even more:
At 11:31 (ish) the kitchen is looking better. I'm almost finished cleaning up and B has finished his lunch. He brings his trash in the kitchen and says "I'm done." I turn to look at him and notice he appears pale. Pale for him means sick; i.e. puke. I ask what's wrong and he says "I think I need to throw up."
Why me? What did I do this week to deserve such torture?
Thankfully he made it to the toilet but yes, he did throw up! Currently he is napping after I took his temp and found he had a low grade fever (guilt, guilt guilt!).
I've had some busy days in my life. But never has so much transpired within such a short period of time! I love my children with all of my being but there are days where I wonder why I'm being punished! And after my half hour from hell this morning I will wonder it again.
Now all I have to do is clean up my mess that I created by overreacting the way I did.... That's the worst part.
