Yesterday was one of those days. The kids drove. me. bonkers. It started about five minutes after they rolled out of bed asking 14 million times if today was *cartoon day?* No, it's not. Today is Monday. But is today cartoooooon day? No! It's not. WHAAAAAAA, we want cartooooon day. Somebody shoot me.
And it went on and on like that pretty much all morning about something or another. My fuse was pretty short. I thought getting them out of the house would help. At 1:30, I couldn't stand it (and by it, I mean *them*) any longer so we went to the park. The awesome park. The one that has a ginormous sand pit. The one that I used to obsess over whether or not they were getting sand in their hair and playing nicely with the other 75 kids. The one that now, as long as no one is bloody or making others bloody, I don't care what they are doing or where they are putting sand.
Finally, at 3:00, when I could take the heat no longer, we loaded up (sand and all) and rolled over to the outdoor pool. Steve was planning on meeting us there at 4:00, which meant only an hour by myself. The heavens parted and the Lord had mercy because I rolled up and found a front row parking spot. We went to the kiddie pool where we usually stay until I can get some parental back up at 4:00.
Then, *IT* happened. A conspiracy that must have happened back at the sand pit. The *let's send mom to the loony bin* plan. Aka: Operation *Watch Me*.
You see, I am an only child. And before you make all kind of assumptions, I'm pretty well adjusted (just don't ask me to share anything and for sure never tell me no!) As an only child, I have no experience with contending for parental attention. Which also means I have no modeling (for better or for worse) to draw from. I'm making this up as I go along, people!
Within 45 minutes of being in the kiddie pool, my three children must have said the phrase, "Hey mom, watch me!" 250 times. Upon the 251st time, my eyes became red with rage and I had had enough. "Okay. You may NOT ask me to watch you do anything else. Nothing. Do. Not. Ask. Me. One. More. Time."
To which Quinn waited about 3 seconds and said, "Hey mom, pay attention to this..." I'm pretty sure my head spun around and steam came from my ears. Oh. My. Gosh.
I then instructed them to not even talk to me. If they wanted to talk to someone they were allowed to talk to each other. By the time Steve arrived at 4:00, I'm pretty sure the other mom's at the pool were ready to call Children Services on me. Which really would have been fine at that point. Just make mine a padded cell! Cookoo! Cookoo!