Life With Five Kids

Here is something I wrote that prompted some people to tell me to start a blog:

The older kids are home from school. Both twins decide to wake up because they are hungry. I feed one, and let the other fuss for a minute as I hear the older kids arguing at the table. I finish up, feed the other twin, and then put them in their swings, so I can start dinner...something easy....spaghetti and breadsticks. Can't get much easier than that.

Connor starts crying....ok....well...I'll put him in the sling and just wear him while I work. Marissa is still at the table, asking me questions as I start to prepare dinner:

"Mom...I don't know what two states are not on this map....Hawaii??"

"That's one...what other one don't you see?"

"Um...Canada?"

"Canada's not a state."

"Um....Mexico?"

"Mexico isn't a state either....it's north...um...think cold..."

"Oh! Antartica?"

Owen starts crying in the swing. I try giving him a pacifier...nope...not going to work. I sigh, as the oven beeps, indicating it has finally preheated. I take Connor out of the sling, and swaddle him....I place him in the bassinet, and go get Owen, who settles right down in the sling. I hear Irelynn yelling. Great.

I come out to find her outside the basement door, screaming to her brother."Jay Jay!!! Bedroom!!!! Jump on bed!!"I tell her no, she is not going to go down to Jay Jay's room and jump on his bed. She lets loose with an ear piercing shriek that probably made the neighbors wonder if I beat my children. I sigh, choose to ignore it, and put the breadsticks in the oven.

Marissa is scowling at the table.

"Mooo-om....where is Washington D.C.? I have looked through the state of Washington a bunch of times, and I don't see it anywhere."

CRACK.

I peek around the corner to see Irelynn stare at me with a look of innocent shock....while strawberry milk drips down the basement door, collecting in a puddle on the floor, next to her open sippy cup. I grab something to mop it up, and come back to realize the spaghetti sauce is bubbling over. Jay has conveniently disappeared down in the basement. Connor starts fussing from the bedroom. Now Irelynn has a funnel. Where she found said funnel, I have no clue. But it amplifies her voice to levels that make Metallica seem soothing. She is running through the house announcing (through the funnel) that she is not wearing pants. Where did her pants go? I'm not sure. But they are probably located in whatever spot she found the funnel in.

Marissa is now asking me how many miles would it be if one inch equals 300 miles, and she just measured the distance at two and a half inches.

Connor sounds like a mix between a disgruntled dolphin and Bruce when he has terrible gas.

Suddenly I hear "Mama! Help!" I run to the bathroom to find Irelynn standing in the sink. She has the baby shampoo in one hand, and my toothbrush in the other. Great. Luckily Bruce came home then.

Later...I take Jay to Tae Kwon Do, and come home to find that the guy that I forgot we scheduled to come give an estimate on putting in a door wall was already here...and Bruce was trying to feed a twin while Irelynn was running around half nekkid. She keeps handing the guy coupons that she finds as she rummages through my purse. I have to grab the other twin, who is now fussing. Irelynn once again begins announcing that she is not wearing pants. The guy...I believe his name was Scott...is telling us the difference in cost between a 6-ft and 5-ft door.

Irelynn runs to the living room and trips...slamming into the wall. All chaos ensues. She is finally pacified with a sucker...and then our cat throws up in the middle of the kitchen floor. Let's just say...it was a two beer night. More if I would have had more...and knew that the twins would sleep longer than three hours at a time. Oy.

So...that is my excuse as to why I cannot seem to find time to actually write anything.
As it is...it took me forever to type this out because of fussy babies and a toddler demanding bologna...which she promptly shared with the cat. I am beginning to realize why the cat might have stomach issues. I am sipping my coffee from my Happy Feet cup (well, my Sea World cup that Irelynn tells me is Happy Feet because it has penguins on it) and contemplating adding some Baileys. But now I hear Connor fussing. It may have to wait.