Swimming Upstream
It feels like I haven't blogged in forever. At this point you're probably wondering if my kids made it off to college all right, and how I'm handling menopause.
Okay, so maybe it hasn't been that long. I still have a house full of little boys who refuse to stay clothed and who are, at this very moment, in the living room playing a game they call "Penis Fly Trap." (What it consists of is anybody's guess. I, for one, don't want to know.)
You can blame my absence from the blogosphere largely on this dude:
Corbin is a mellow baby. He really is. It's just that, well, he didn't exactly burst forth from the womb eager to simplify my life. Since he's been here, he's done virtually no housework, and insists that I feed him, and wants me to, like, wipe his butt and stuff. And he has the audacity to poop through at least one outfit a day, and spit up all over at least two more, yet never thinks to go downstairs and put a load of laundry on.
I mean, really. The nerve.
But I guess he's all right. He can stay, since I sure as hell will not be putting him back.
My whole life right now is a blur of trying to get the hang of my new role asThe Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe mother of four (while still maintaining the laundry and the dishes and the cooking and preventing the buildup of crust on a variety of household surfaces, including said children). And on top of that, because I am a glutton for punishment like to stay extra-busy, I took on a writing job.
Hey, four kids are expensive.
If someone ever wanted to pay me to blog, maybe I'd get it done more often.
Anyway, I've noticed something lately. Coby, being two-almost-three, has entered that annoying stage of wanting to do everything for himself ... even if he can't. He's not exactly a pro at dressing himself or putting on his shoes, for example, yet he insists upon trying. And twenty minutes of fits and frustration later, he's still trying.
On the other hand, Colin (7) and Cameron (4), who can do things such as dress themselves, don't seem to want to do it any more. It's like once they actually mastered doing it themselves, all the fun was gone. So it still takes forever for them to get dressed, or brush their teeth or whatever, although now it's because I have toyell at them instruct them to do it a gazillion times before it gets done. Isn't it ironic? ... Don'tcha think?*
*shoutout to Alanis Morissette
If it's not one phase, it's another. I'm trying to go with the flow, but 90% of the time I feel like a salmon swimming upstream.
And if I don't hurry and get into the shower while the baby naps, I'm going to smell like one too.
Okay, so maybe it hasn't been that long. I still have a house full of little boys who refuse to stay clothed and who are, at this very moment, in the living room playing a game they call "Penis Fly Trap." (What it consists of is anybody's guess. I, for one, don't want to know.)
You can blame my absence from the blogosphere largely on this dude:
P.S., that is not my hairy arm in the photo.
Corbin is a mellow baby. He really is. It's just that, well, he didn't exactly burst forth from the womb eager to simplify my life. Since he's been here, he's done virtually no housework, and insists that I feed him, and wants me to, like, wipe his butt and stuff. And he has the audacity to poop through at least one outfit a day, and spit up all over at least two more, yet never thinks to go downstairs and put a load of laundry on.
I mean, really. The nerve.
But I guess he's all right. He can stay, since I sure as hell will not be putting him back.
My whole life right now is a blur of trying to get the hang of my new role as
Hey, four kids are expensive.
If someone ever wanted to pay me to blog, maybe I'd get it done more often.
Anyway, I've noticed something lately. Coby, being two-almost-three, has entered that annoying stage of wanting to do everything for himself ... even if he can't. He's not exactly a pro at dressing himself or putting on his shoes, for example, yet he insists upon trying. And twenty minutes of fits and frustration later, he's still trying.
On the other hand, Colin (7) and Cameron (4), who can do things such as dress themselves, don't seem to want to do it any more. It's like once they actually mastered doing it themselves, all the fun was gone. So it still takes forever for them to get dressed, or brush their teeth or whatever, although now it's because I have to
*shoutout to Alanis Morissette
If it's not one phase, it's another. I'm trying to go with the flow, but 90% of the time I feel like a salmon swimming upstream.
And if I don't hurry and get into the shower while the baby naps, I'm going to smell like one too.
You make me smile! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteI've never commented before, but read your blog. You are so funny! Keep writing!
ReplyDeleteGood luck! Once you get the hang of four kids, you should solve world hunger. I feel it is on the same difficulty level.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I was just having a conversation with my friend who has two kids about how much easier two kids is than three. And then we wondered if I had four if it would seem like three is a breeze. And then, obviously, I yanked out my uterus and threw it into the freeway just to make double sure I never find out.
ReplyDeleteCorbin is so adorable! And "Penis Fly Trap"? Oh Mah Gawd, that is hilarious. I'm frightened and intrigued.
ReplyDeleteYou go on with your bad self. I'm with Hannah on the uterus to freeway business. :)
I heard Michelle Duggar (mother of, like 22 kids)says that after five kids, things get easier. Maybe you shouldn't try it, though. You know, just in case she's wrong or something. Seems like four boys should be enough to keep you (and several other people) busy for many years to come! And even if he doesn't do laundry, you gotta admit Corbin's sweet little face is a plenty big enough reward for all the work!
ReplyDeleteNow Cathie, that is NOT the way to convince her to make some more cutie-pies! LOL. :o)
ReplyDeleteHang in there, Rita!
There is nothing I can do but stand up and salute you! I am in a house with a 1-year-old and a 3-year-old, not even mine, and I am about to go nuts, never mind FOUR!
ReplyDeleteand if you do find someone to pay you to blog, can you send them my way too! I need my writing to "do something for us" (husband's words) for it to be worth doing (or so I have been told, and yes, you can hear the bitterness in my typing there).
Girrrrrl, I don't known how you do it. I'm serious. This one little human is about to do me in. Wow. Why didn't anyone tell me how much work babies are? Oh? You did? Well, I should have listened and maybe I'd be prepared. The idea of having more than one child seriously makes ME go into the fetal position. Ryan and I are just amazed at how quickly Henry broke us. ;) And how we can still love the little monster all the same.
ReplyDeleteThat picture of Corbin is too precious. I love it!