It was like herding cats – last night and this morning.
Brooke had salsa tots yesterday and came home exhausted. Sierra had fairy tale day, didn’t nap and came home exhausted – ragging me out for not sending her a pair of wings so she could be a fairy. (But honey – I remembered to send a costume for you!)
The girls ate a great dinner (breakfast sausages, caesar salad and carrots – don’t ask, it’s what they wanted and they ate it). Afterwards we went to the basement and danced and cleaned out the under stairs storage. We found new toys to donate, and toys that were from a Little People Castle that they got for Christmas 2 years ago still embedded in the castle box. We fought over the new toys and we made room for my hubby’s hockey stuff in the laundry room because the girls kept trying to wear the gross hockey stuff. (I’m in their bad books for taking away the hockey stuff – I didn’t know they needed it as armour).
At bath time I threw the Duplo in for them to play with. Brooke was excited and kept saying she needed more in the tub, but when it came time to get in the tub she screamed that the Duplo was in the way and that there was no room for her, so she spent her whole bath screaming and throwing wet Duplo at me. I had tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard at her misery – I just couldn’t help it. Sierra loved the Duplo and was completely oblivious to Brooke’s antics until Brooke started taking Sierra’s Duplo away from her. Then World War 3 broke out and I called the two parties to the table to work out a treaty over chocolate milk and mandarin orange slices. Apparently the war was all my fault. After the war the soldiers fell into bed exhausted and weren’t heard from until 7:15 am.
At 7:15 am the war started again, only this time I was the opponent. The reason? Chocolate milk was not served early enough, Treehouse wasn’t showing the right shows, it wasn’t raining so there was no need to use their umbrellas…. This soldier started to leave without them – they smartened up quickly and I ended the battle with warm croissants in baggies for them to eat in the car.
I may have won that battle, but the war is not over – it will continue tonight and every night for the rest of my life, which is why I will never ever be nominated for Mother of the Year.