I have monsters in my house. In the form of two little boys, specifically Blake & Will.
I have no idea what happened last night, for once I was actually asleep for most of it, what I do know is that the four year old & three year old who went to bed last night are not the same two that have woken up this morning. One minute they are thick as thieves together, then literally the next minute their alliance has turned & it's a no holds barred contest to see who can annoy the other the most. Then when they aren't terrorizing each other, they are terrorizing me.
Getting ready this morning & they became two little tornadoes. Just remembering now makes me want to pull my hair out all over again. It all started innocently enough chasing each other around the large dining area with their blankets, seeing who can step on the others blanket while keeping their own safe from the fast feet of each other. Next thing Will bursts into tears, screams out a blood curdling war cry & tries to snatch up all of Blake's blanket in his pudgy little arms & run off with it. Of course he forgot to hold on to his own blanket during all this, unintentionally leaving it abandoned on the floor as he took his ill thought out revenge. Blake seeing his own blanket high tailing it down the hall way, scoops up Will's & proceeds to tease Will even further by flapping around all two meters of fleecy warmth as best as his skinny arms can. Similar to a matador taunting a bull with a red flag. Torn between wanting to deposit Blake's blanket somewhere obscure at the other end of the house, likely behind the door of Clay's unoccupied bedroom where everything gets hidden by Will, & wanting to rescue his own blankie sent Will into a fast declining tail spin. Seeing Blake with his still banana-fied hands all over Will's blanket was just too much for his newly graduated three year old self. At this point I had to abandon the sandwich making & recess packing I was in the middle of to intervene before minion war five thousand & nine broke out.
A temporary truce was called, blankets were restored to their rightful owner & attentions were thoroughly absorbed in a perfectly timed episode of Peppa Pig. For all of five minutes. I heard the closing tunes of the sanity saving cartoon & prayed that they had calmed down enough to remain absorbed in whatever was coming up next on ABC Kids so I could finish getting the older three organised for school & Clay changed out of his Bonds body suit & soggy nappy. No dice. Within ten seconds of Peppa Pig disappearing from our TV screen the monsters were at it again, this time as a team. Their target: Clay's overflowing wooden basket of toys. The aim: to stimulate an environment akin to a hail storm of squeaky, chiming, rattling, crinkly infant toys. Status: mission accomplished. Though I did have my own success in ensuring that they tidied up their mess, if with my ever present supervision. (I know from many previous events that the moment I was to turn my back was the moment they would turn their actions from putting toys back into the basket to throwing them at each other.) At least this time the house was filled with giggles instead of cries.
We got through the rest of the morning with more hi-jinks on a lower scale. I knew then it is going to be one of those days. One where I go from one room to the other trying to keep on top of their interpretation of fun, or trying to keep them from each other. These days don't happen all the time, but they do happen. At least now I've experienced enough of these days & now know not to swim against the tide, rather freestyle along side it as best I can until the rip has passed & I can get us all back to shore & into bed.
All was well until the drive home from a morning visit to a McDonald's playground, which was a success - they got to run, Clay got to watch their antics & I gratefully had my caffeine hot & in peace. Again it never lasts long on days like this, in fact it lasted until the drive home. Blake & Will sit next to each other in the third row in the car, just to help set the mental image. Cue torment. Will kept looking at Blake. Yep, this was enough to turn Blake into a devastated bucket of salty tears. Blake retaliated with his own form of torment by informing Will that they would not be watching 'Wreck it Ralph' (the current movie on continuous loop) once we got home. The world was ending as Will knew it. At this point I informed the both of them that there would be no movies or TV when we got home, instead they could ride their bikes outside while I organize their lunch. The result was double devastation, entirely expected. Like I mentioned above, nothing ever lasts long on a topsy-turvy day & their dual devastation was no exception. Tears were forgotten the moment 'the buggie song' as Blake calls it, or officially known as 'Blackout' (by some female singer) came on the radio. Thank god for small & often easily distracted attention spans.
We arrived home with no further outbursts or brotherly torment. I'll take that as another win for the day. It's all about the small mercies.
Lunch has been eaten, with many giggles & supervision, milk has been drunk & two little bodies have been tucked into bed for a nap.
I have low expectations for the remaining daylight hours. My to do list has been drastically edited. No longer will I be washing windows, sweeping outside & folding washing (I am both over joyed & distressed over this, because I know the folding pile isn't going any where but up). Instead my tasks for the day include this blog, my lunch, then hopefully an hour of reading before Will comes back from the land of nod (I had typed 'comes back to consciousness' there, but it sounded bad, really bad. Like he had been put intentionally into a state of unconsciousness, which I assure you was not the case. Hence the edit) Then all that will remain of my desired achievements to announce today a success is to collect the three older minions from school, keep everyone alive & safe from Blake & Will, cook dinner, organize baths & showers, then bedtimes.
I can do this.