Monday, August 18, 2008

A Compelling Argument for a Vacation

I had to work at my second job this evening, so hubby was "in charge" of homework and bedtime.

When I got home at 9:30 PM, homework was not done, kids were in showers, playing and eating, and definitely NOT in bed. I wonder if hubby had a list to complete that involved power tools, if it would be complete...

Amy was running around in circles in the shower, apparently trying not to get wet. Keith was jamming out to some loud, awful music, which could be heard plainly, even with headphones plugged in his ears. Emma was daydreaming and doodling on a dry erase board.

"Um, why aren't the kids in bed?" I asked, tentatively.

"We just got home," hubby said, never looking up from the television.

"At 9:30? I thought cheer was over at 8:00."

"Yea," hubby said flatly, still not looking up.

"So... What have you been doing since 8:00?"

"You know, we have been doing a lot. The kids are getting ready, you know. Eating. Um, we did some, you know, homework... Hey, have you seen this episode?" he mumbled.

"Honey," I snapped.

"What?" hubby jerked his head up at me.

"What-are-the-kids-doing-up?" I asked.

"They're getting ready for bed," he said with big, innocent eyes.

"Okay. What about homework?"

"What about it?"

"Did-they-do-it?" I asked, my voice rising slightly.

"Um. I guess. Did they have any?"

Deep breaths... "Honey. Amy and Keith had homework. Did they work on it at all?"

"Yeah. Keith said he's done. Amy did hers before she began her shower."

I picked up Amy's homework. It was incomplete and she hadn't written her name on it.

"Honey, did you say Amy finished her homework?" I asked, waving the paper at him.

"I don't know. I guess," he said, eyes glued back on the television.

Deep breaths... "Amy?" I called upstairs.

"What?" hubby asked.

"I need Amy. She didn't finish her homework."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she didn't finish, and I need her to finish."

"Oh, look! Obama and McCain are in some kind of debate," he observed, looking at the television.

I rolled my eyes at, apparently, no one. Then I stomped upstairs to get the situation under control.

I went into the bathroom. "Amy, please get out and go downstairs to daddy." I turned off the water, handed her a towel, and walked into the bonus room.

"Keith, have you brushed your teeth?"

"No," he answered in the middle of his air guitar solo.

"Please turn off your music and go brush your teeth... Emma, have you brushed your teeth?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, smiling.

"Good! Thank you! Could you please go on and get in the bed?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Amy came out with her pajamas stuck to her body. Apparently she had not used the towel, and put her clothes on while she was still wet.

Sigh. "Amy, please go brush your teeth and your hair then go downstairs to daddy."

"You want me to brush my teeth with my hair?" she giggled.

Sigh. "Yes, Amy. Please brush your hairy teeth," I said smiling.

She giggled some more as she headed to the bathroom.
"Mom, make her stop!" Keith hollered from the bathroom.

"Stop what?" I asked, as I picked up Keith's wet towel from the floor.

"Stop looking at me. Stop it, Amy! I said, STOP!"

"Amy, please look at yourself in the mirror, brush your teeth and your hair and then go downstairs to daddy," I called.

Keith emerged from the bathroom and huffed minty breath in my face. "All clean," he announced.

"Thank you. Please get in bed."

"Can we watch TV?" Keith asked.

"No. You should have been in bed an hour ago."

"Please? There's a new show on and I want to see it. It's only 30 minutes."

"Did you record it?"

"Then watch it tomorrow... AMY- GO-DOWNSTAIRS."

"Jeez. I'm going, mom. Don't have a cow," she walked quickly to the steps.

"Honey, Amy is coming down to do her homework," I called downstairs.

"Huh?... Oh, Okay... Wait, what homework?"


"What are you doing?" he questioned, obviously unhappy about having to tear away from the TV.


"What about Amy?" he called.


"Alright," he called up, unhappy. "Love you," he sang up the stairs.

"ME, TOO, HONEY," I called through gritted teeth.

Unfortunately, this is an all-too common situation in our house in the evening. It's also similar when we are getting ready to go somewhere.

I have to goad everyone along with a tazer gun while they all wander around like they're on a Sunday stroll in the park. By the time we're done, I feel like I need a drink. And the rest of the family honestly can't figure out why I'm stressed.

"What's wrong?" hubby asks, eyebrows raised.

"Trying to get you all to do anything is like herding cats," I complain.

"Why?" he wants to know.

Where do I start? You know what? Never mind. I'm going to bed. I'm going to sleep. They can all wander and roam all night for all I care. Emma may actually get some sleep. Keith and Amy will amuse themselves and distract themselves until dawn, unless I lose my mind and scream at them. Hubby will watch TV- just until I get interested in a show. Then he'll be ready for bed.

But I don't care. Tomorrow I'll make sure Amy's homework got done and that the soap is out of her hair. I'll make sure Keith has lunch money. And I'll give Emma a big hug for not making me want to choke her even once last night.

I'll send hubby off to do his corporate strategizing for the day, wondering how he made it in to the office considering how little help he was last night with the kids. And I'll get dressed and start all over again.

But tonight... tonight I'm going to bed. Tonight I'm going to sleep. And I hope the household will get some sleep, too...

1 comment:

ThePrincessMommy said...

Oh - I feel your pain! I so feel your pain! PS _ This would be great in Woman's Day!