What A Beautiful Morning...

I get up in the morning and the sound track begins to play. Actually, it usually starts to play before I get up...

"Waaa, Waaa, Waaaa, Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Eventually, two wet-pull-up kids meander out to the land of the living. I direct them in the ways of proper hygiene: discard pull-up and put on underwear/clean pull-up. (depending on the child's personal bladder success.) When I step on a squishy, wet, gross peed-in-all-night-pull-up later that morning, I realize an act of disobedience was committed. I am considering taping a small trash can to my kid's bottom so that they will remember to THROW THE STINKIN' PULL-UP AWAY.

Yawn. Where's the coffee?

"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom."

It's amazing to me that with most kids, any dislikes they may be experiencing when they wake up in the morning can be calmed by food. So, I usually nurse first thing in my day and then feed the other kids. Then the tune of my sound track changes...

"We were going to have hot cocoa! You said last night that when it's light out we could have hot cocoa! I want hot cocoaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo."

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"I need a kleenex," said by a high-chair-confined-snot-nose-dripping kid.

"Waaa. Waaa. Waaa. Waaa. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." etc.

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom, can I go downstairs and ride my bike?"

(this repetitious Mom. Mom. Mom. stuff has got to stop.)

Said by Mom in about 2 seconds:

"Child number 1, get off the baby."

"Child number 2, get off the dishwasher. "

Sigh.

"Hey Mom, do babies fart?"

Yes.

"Hey Mom, do ducks fly?"

Yes.

"Mom, do ducks FLY?"

Yes.

"Mom, do ducks FFFLLLYYY?"

Um, yes.

"No Mom, do ducks FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?"

Yes Landon, they fly.

"They do?"

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Cat runs through house just then. Confiscate her quick before the leather recliner sports any new holes.

Baby bumps head. Pat his bottom for comfort.

Get Janae off dishwasher. Again. She is putting dishes away.

Duck flies past my head... "Hey Mom, he's flying!"

(it's about time.)

Blocks begin spilling all over living room floor: clean living room, may I add. House stinks like poop/dirty diaper. Cat runs through house again. Baby cries.

Child puts on sandals and heads out the back door to play in the barely-above-zero weather. The non-house dog walking in the kitchen alerts me to the fact that a door was open, a child probably left and the possibility that the dog already peed on the floor is pretty great.

"Mom, I'm going outside and I won't freeze that bad though."

Baby cries.

"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom."

What?

"Can we have hot cocoa now? You said when it was light out, we could have hot cocoa."

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Janae, keep the cat down stairs.

"Mom, dis my babeeee!" she tells me with the fur ball cradled in her arms.

"I'm really firsty!"

Get a drink.

I look up in time to see a kid precariously teetering on the edge of the sink, crawling from one side of the sink to the other.

MEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. (live sound effect of live cat being caught by live two year old.)

3 year old wrestles with baby. He tells me he did this when he was big and had his own kid. (Not sure where this reincarnation philosophy is coming from.)

"That's NICE!" I hear Janae saying from kitchen as he admires her cup of water. She needed a "rink" too.

3 year old attempts to steal cup from 2 year old.

"MINE!"

"Can we eat hot chocolate now?"

No, not yet.

"UH! that's what you said...."

Yes, I know... when it's light out we can have hot cocoa.

Children began digging in tool drawer. A paint brush flies across the living room. A screw driver attempts to take the door of a china cabinet off. A chisel scrapes across a piece of furniture. Baby blows bubbles on the kitchen floor and officially scoots himself for first time from one dirty spot on the floor to another dirty spot. Baby bumps head. Kids go down stairs to play.

"MOM! There's a boogy man in the basement so I need to get a gun!" (he heads for some of the vacuuming cleaner hoses.)

"MOM! Boogy man!" A wide eyed blue eyed girl explains with shock on her face.

Not the vacuum cleaner. Do not touch the vacuum cleaner.

"I'm going buh-bye," Janae informs me.

You're leaving?

"Yeah, she's going buh-bye," Landon explains.

I smirk.

Water spills. Landon wrestles the baby again. Baby cries. Cat tries to get upstairs. Again. Janae wants to get dressed. She's leaving, remember?

The sound track starts the next track. Kids play with toys nicely. Baby quits bumping his head. The phone isn't ringing. Cat stays down stairs. A lit candle takes care of that poop smell. What a picture perfect morning!

Is anybody ready for hot cocoa yet?

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This account is based on a true story. All names, dates, places and occurrences are not author's imagination. Any link to persons known or unknown is not coincidental. Use discretion if under 3: asking your mom for hot cocoa a million times a day just because she said you could have it the night before, does not warrant a good enough reason to drink the stuff at the crack of dawn. And saying Mom. Mom. Mom. (rinse, lather, repeat...) is an unkind act in an attempt to destroy a loved one's sanity.