You wish you were me. Admit it.
I wake up to the soothing sounds of Squeak-ah! Squeak-ah! coming from the twin's room, where Logan and Emma are jumping up and down in their cribs and yelling "Mama! Dah-dee! Ehn! Ehn!". I pull them out one at a time and change their diapers. While changing one's diaper, the other screams to be let out.
After putting the first one on the floor, they scream to be picked back up.
Oh, and they're starving to death but they don't want you to put them down so you can make them breakfast.
I put them down anyway and they yell at me. Then they try to get into the cupboards and spice drawers. We've tied the spice drawers shut (which is a really nice look in "Hillbilly", I must say), just to keep them out and from smashing glass bottles on the tile floor. The tile floor that is only clean when the twins are sleeping. I fend the screaming, starving children off with slightly chocolate milk in sippie cups long enough to make pancakes or waffles. The dishes start their daily pile up in the sink.
Once I have food made, I hand out forks and plop the short people into their highchairs to eat. This gives me a moment to put my own breakfast together and maybe finish making my cup of tea. This will be the same cup of tea I attempt to drink until lunchtime. I am not allowed to sit down and eat my own breakfast because by the time I have them settled and I'm ready to eat, they are finished with their food and want to be let Out! to eat mine. Or just sit in my lap and complain about not being able to drink my tea. Thus, I eat standing up.
Once everyone is done eating, I attempt to clean up the dishes while having my legs attacked by grumpy children. Why are they grumpy? I have no idea. Maybe it's because I'm not paying attention to them or because this one has stolen that one's toy or because there are no more blueberries. Could be anything. The key here is that the grumping will continue all through the clean up phase.
The cleaning never gets finished. The floor will have to remain gross until the twins go to sleep.
I ask Caitlin to get dressed, brush her hair and her teeth. Generally this results in her throwing herself on the floor in a snit. You know, because it's so haaaard to be asked to be clean. You should see what happens when I ask her to spend 15 minutes cleaning her room. Woo!
Somewhere in there, I smell someone being stinky and then it's off to deal with someone else's poop.
I long for the day when I no longer have to deal with the poop of other people. When I don't have to see it, clean it, wash up after it, do laundry because of it or be covered in it.
Yes, it's a life goal of mine. I have lofty goals indeed.
There is the continued attempt to get something done: laundry, gardening, dinner planning, removal of small children from dangerous locations or substances. Finally it's nap time. There's more screaming because they're not tired! Ignore that eye rubbing! Or the screaming! Ignoring the screaming for no reason! I throw them into bed anyway and after yelling at me, they switch to squealing at each other and eventually sleep.
I attempt to clean some more or maybe do some laundry. Possibly read some emails or comics. Maybe have a shower. I should be doing about 8 other things, but dammit! these 30 minutes are my "free" time and I'm gonna waste 'em my way.
Rinse and repeat twice more throughout the day. Sprinkle in ~8 year old tantrums, eyerolling and general bad attitude. Step in squishy food and crunchy things.
Yup. Glamorous. I'm tellin' you - you wish you were me, dontcha?