I'm not sure I can keep up.
Easter was fun. Lots of milk chocolate, ricotta pie, babies and bagels. (Not enough lox. Oops.) The mini-egg frittatas were a good idea. (Mine!) We've got photos, but they're still in David's camera...
(Speaking of Easter, I stopped at Safeway on Saturday to pick up a spiral-cut ham, 36 eggs, and dye kit. The cashier says to me, "Happy holiday!" Huh? I can kind of understand the "Happy holidays" thing around Christmas because there are, in fact, other holidays: Hanukkah, Festivus, etc. But there was nothing but the resurrection of Christ last weekend! And I had a ham in my cart!)
Anyway, yesterday morning before work -- the crazy hour -- I found Margaret perched on the coffee table, eating her way through a foil-wrapped bunny. Oh, Margaret! Your poop is going to have pink and gold foil in it! She was delighted, of course. "It looked like a toy. But it smelled like heaven and I just took a bite... and found chocolate!!" So I was trying to pick up the tiniest bits of chewed foil -- I can't even be bothered with the shards of chocolate -- when I heard the kitchen cabinet close. Hm.
Into the kitchen, and I find Josephine eating cat treats out of a plastic canister. Josephine! How did you open that? That's not for babies. I steal it out of her hands. Outrage! She scrunches up her tiny nose, squeezes her eyebrows into an angry devil point, and opens her mouth -- oh, it's Lucy!
"I don't waaant to go to school today!"
So, that's Crazy Hour 1.
Brace yourself for Crazy Hour 2. Lucy and I get home around 5. David gets home after 6. In the interim... I'm making dinner for the kiddos -- chicken in a pan, broccoli and French fries. Busy, busy, busy, throw everything on/into stove, and then go play. Oh, Margaret needs a new diaper. Wait a second, Margaret! You can't run off with a naked tushie! Oh, all right, fine, I need to turn the chicken. I'll be back! Hm, Margaret, you look very thoughtful...
Josephine, please don't crawl in Margaret's pee!
Lulu! What are you doing?! Get out of Margaret's pee!
Okay, girlies, I have to drain the broccoli. Be good. Oh, hi Margaret! What's on your face, big girl? Is that jelly? It's all over your stomach! And your big ol' leg... Margaret! You're covered in... BLOOD!! Quick, into the sink, what happened to you!? Josephine!! Put down that can! Lulu -- can you take that can away from Josephinie? I think Margaret cut herself on that can. WHO LEFT THAT CAN THERE??!
Yes, Margaret is fine. She cut her little finger and it was so small that I can't find it anymore.
But me?!
I think I need the rest cure. Does anybody know what that is? I just looked it up on Wikipedia. Developed in the 19th century -- the pinnacle of medical thinking, I'm sure -- it calls for four weeks of bed rest, no contact with family members (!), regular massages, and a diet of high-fat dairy products.
Ha. The closest I will come is a glass of milk.
(Speaking of Easter, I stopped at Safeway on Saturday to pick up a spiral-cut ham, 36 eggs, and dye kit. The cashier says to me, "Happy holiday!" Huh? I can kind of understand the "Happy holidays" thing around Christmas because there are, in fact, other holidays: Hanukkah, Festivus, etc. But there was nothing but the resurrection of Christ last weekend! And I had a ham in my cart!)
Anyway, yesterday morning before work -- the crazy hour -- I found Margaret perched on the coffee table, eating her way through a foil-wrapped bunny. Oh, Margaret! Your poop is going to have pink and gold foil in it! She was delighted, of course. "It looked like a toy. But it smelled like heaven and I just took a bite... and found chocolate!!" So I was trying to pick up the tiniest bits of chewed foil -- I can't even be bothered with the shards of chocolate -- when I heard the kitchen cabinet close. Hm.
Into the kitchen, and I find Josephine eating cat treats out of a plastic canister. Josephine! How did you open that? That's not for babies. I steal it out of her hands. Outrage! She scrunches up her tiny nose, squeezes her eyebrows into an angry devil point, and opens her mouth -- oh, it's Lucy!
"I don't waaant to go to school today!"
So, that's Crazy Hour 1.
Brace yourself for Crazy Hour 2. Lucy and I get home around 5. David gets home after 6. In the interim... I'm making dinner for the kiddos -- chicken in a pan, broccoli and French fries. Busy, busy, busy, throw everything on/into stove, and then go play. Oh, Margaret needs a new diaper. Wait a second, Margaret! You can't run off with a naked tushie! Oh, all right, fine, I need to turn the chicken. I'll be back! Hm, Margaret, you look very thoughtful...
Josephine, please don't crawl in Margaret's pee!
Lulu! What are you doing?! Get out of Margaret's pee!
Okay, girlies, I have to drain the broccoli. Be good. Oh, hi Margaret! What's on your face, big girl? Is that jelly? It's all over your stomach! And your big ol' leg... Margaret! You're covered in... BLOOD!! Quick, into the sink, what happened to you!? Josephine!! Put down that can! Lulu -- can you take that can away from Josephinie? I think Margaret cut herself on that can. WHO LEFT THAT CAN THERE??!
Yes, Margaret is fine. She cut her little finger and it was so small that I can't find it anymore.
But me?!
I think I need the rest cure. Does anybody know what that is? I just looked it up on Wikipedia. Developed in the 19th century -- the pinnacle of medical thinking, I'm sure -- it calls for four weeks of bed rest, no contact with family members (!), regular massages, and a diet of high-fat dairy products.
Ha. The closest I will come is a glass of milk.
posted by Mary Ellen at
6:16 AM
4 Comments:
After a day like that, I think you need some liquor! Reading your posts always makes me feel better about having only 1 child. It is also the reason I watch "Jon & Kate Plus 8" on TLC.
Leftovers! You have enough ham to feed a family of 50 for a week. No need to make dinner!
And those cabinet baby proof things....and some booze
This isn't about your girls, it's about one of mine. Anika (6) has discovered the global divide:
Anika: "There's nothing to play with in India!"
Me: "But there are lots of kids to play with."
She: "But there's nothing to play with, with the kids!"
Yikes! And she hadn't even gotten home yet.
The rest cure? Oh my God, that sounds like a little slice of heaven!
And I will treasure this little gem: "But there was nothing but the resurrection of Christ last weekend! And I had a ham in my cart!"
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