Weekends… the wonderful two days at the end of every work week to relax, get some jobs done that have been hanging out for awhile and spend quality time with the kids. Well that is the fantasy at least. Instead I spend two days doing laundry, sweeping the floor several times after much too enthusiastic kids and puppies, and nagging (oops, I mean positively reinforcing the need) the girls to pick up their room which for no apparent reason always seems to look like hurricanes Sarita and Callista have just been through at 100 mph.
In the name of all that is soothing and peaceful I am more than happy to let little Mr. Nathan take a bath. Soon it becomes apparent that his two favorite toys named Sarita and Callista are helping out with tub duties. After about 30 minutes of laughter, squealing, and other assorted noises I decide to take a peek. This means that I am mainly concerned about how deep the water is on the bathroom floor vs in the tub. I walk in just as Nathan is saying that he just cannot pop his bubble. Uh, say what? I worry because certain parts of Nathan’s anatomy are “bubbles”. I walk in with both girls leaning into the tub laughing as Nathan pops completely upright on his feet in the tub. He looks back down and says again “it won’t pop” and pulls up a Ziploc bag filled with air that he was sitting on. I look in the tub and see several other air filled Ziploc bags floating around while both girls look suspiciously innocent. Bath bubbles indeed.
Wrinkled but still cute Nathan comes out of the tub now completely ready to take on the world. Did I mention that it is now 9pm? Usually bedtime. Ask Nathan that – nope not night night. He starts running back and forth from the front room to the girls bedroom. This is a feat all in itself since there is a baby/child gate up in front of the hallway to keep the puppies in their designated area. But Nathan aka spideyboy just hikes his little self right on over and to the other side. That other webcrawler has nothing on this guy. Frickin spiderman movies are a bad influence. Back and forth. Back and forth. Full speed. I finally cave and have everyone watch a movie to quiet down.
Sunday – hey, I have one more day to regain peace and equilibrium except then all war broke out amongst the female siblings - The Great underwear war of December 07. The carnage, the slings and arrows of insults and accusations, and the slamming of doors. Ahh, the memories. The girls probably have 55 pairs of underwear. They share mainly because they share just about everything being almost exactly the same size. Callista tells me that all the small underwear are missing and Sarita only left her the big ones. I look. The drawer looks pretty empty for having just been filled to the tippy top with newly laundered underwear. I tell Sarita to put the underwear back in the drawer. She does not answer. I leave. Callista tells me again about an hour later. I tell her I want no part of undie battles. Later Callista comes up to me with a handful of underwear (a large handful) and triumphantly declares “See she hid them” and then flounces off to tell Sarita she found them all and she was right about Sarita hiding them. Was it wrong for me to have to close my bedroom door to laugh out loud?
I end my peaceful weekend with the girls in bed and lights off by 9:15 pm (yes, they had made up again), Nathaniel all cuddled up and drowsy next to me and me watching the 10pm news to see if we were actually going to have weather – not that forecasters actually know. I turn off the tv, take a deep breath and close my eyes. Then I feel movement next to me. Nathan puts his mouth right on my ear and sings “old mcdonald had a farm E I E I O, and on this farm he had a (pause) cat E I E I O….
Thank god he only made it through 3 of the farm animals.
They look so innocent but notice the hurricane force behind Nathan...
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