I'm certain that the majority of people who look forward to the weekend aren't necessarily the same ones who are blessed with children. Once again, I've over-indulged in filling my quota of spending quality time with the kids to the point I'm twitching (and cursing whoever thought it would be funny to put the broken wine bottle opener back into the drawer). For starters, tucking the kids into bed at what I believe to be a reasonable hour on Friday night, runs a close parallel to trying to stuff a cat in to a can.
Breakfast in bed was served e-a-r-l-y Saturday morning by my two youngest, one trying to balance the tray in one hand so the other was free to push her sister with if the need arose, and the five year old smelling her fingers with a most perplexed expression on her face,
My bed was vibrating in time to the beat of 'Iron Man', bass cranked, filtrating through the ceiling of my sons room creating hypnotic circles in my cup of coffee.
Surrendering to the fact that self-hypnosis was not going to work, and a second helping of the same tune was about to begin, I got out of bed and tried to brace myself for whatever the next 16 hours might have in store for me. Not too harsh at all really, we had fun dancing, doing some crafts, and playing 'donimoes', even got a little housework done, it was all going smooth as butter...... until bedtime. My five year old, lovingly referred to as 'Mrs. Peasalot', informed me that she had wet the bed the night before, and the blankets were soaked. There were no more dry covers left.....except for on my bed. Now, in our house, if one child gets to do something, for your own sanity, you darn sure better let the other ones do it too. So here I am tucked in MY bed with two quibbling, overly tired girls, two cats, a half a glass of wine with bits of cork floating in it, and the laptop.
Bless us all, Forever more, Amen :)