Rain, Rain, Go Away

We're having a Bad Weather Day today, which means that I am being tormented by, er, I mean to say that I'm Spending Quality Time with the four Shorties today.

The bad part is that we woke up at dawn, the Shorties got up and got dressed and were eating their breakfasts when another mother called to tell us that the school were closing today for bad weather. (We could have at least gotten to sleep late out of the deal, but no such luck.) Thank goodness she called, because if I'd actually driven to the school I might have gone completely postal and shoved the kids out of the van anyway, laughing maniacally while squealing out of the parking lot on two wheels.

So, during this phone call, I looked outside the window at some non-threatening grey skies, thinking to myself, it's raining. Big whoop.

Now, I know that those weathermen are paid to get all wound up with their red and green weather maps flashing like Christmas trees gone wild, but seriously, it's some rain. My work didn't cancel for the day. The pediatric dentist's office this afternoon didn't cancel all of the kids' appointments. It's RAINING! (And the weather is so 'bad' that the satellite TV and satellite Internet are still working...Okay, okay, so there was a little flash flooding and some funnel clouds spotted, but this is seriously impeding my Mommy Needs Alone Time After a Very LOUD Weekend.)

I know that I'm spazing out because I was looking forward to relaxing in the peace and quiet and doing a little reading and enjoying a cup of hot tea in between loads of laundry. Instead of that little island of serenity, my living room sofa, love seat, and chairs have been stripped of cushions and turned into a very serious looking fort with blankets and quilts and pillows from all seven beds (and I'm sure you realize who will be cleaning that up later and remaking all of those beds too).

Everyone is running to and fro in nightclothes, squealing and throwing things and insisting that I dig up flashlights. But when I finally round up four flashlights, some work and some don't, providing a whole new field of fresh picked arguments ranging from 'her flashlight is bigger than mine' to 'why do I always have to have the black one' to someone attempting to steal the batteries from someone else's flashlight while he was in the potty, which I thought might deteriorate into a physical altercation.

There's a child at my elbow right now asking if they can eat in the fort, which means that I have to make lunches (sigh) and serve them (sigh) and clean up after them (sigh).

Elise is screaming at everyone in her spot-on drill sergeant imitation that they 'aren't making it right' (as though there is some kind of rule book on living room forts). Carter is screaming that Lily is touching his sleeping bag (oh, Lord, they have the sleeping bags out of the storage room???). Elaina is screaming that she can't hear her High School Musical Soundtrack CD over the screaming (which probably means that she's cranked it up and is going deaf as I type this). And Lily is screaming that she is NOT touching Carter's sleeping bag, you Stupid! (At least she didn't cuss at him. Yet.)

And Mommy is screaming that everyone better stop screaming RIGHT NOW and DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE and I'M SERIOUS!

Down with weathermen. They are killing my back to school buzz.

Why Your Kids Have to Move Out Eventually

Conversation with my son while we stand at the bathroom sink getting ready for church.

Carter: Mom?

Me: Yes, son?

Carter: When I get married, can I still live with you?

Me: Yes, but you won't want to.

Carter: I'll always want to live with you.

Me, little smile: We'll see.

Carter: But where will my wife sleep if we live with you?

Me: Well, I guess in your room.

Carter, snickering to self probably picturing him sharing the top bunk bed: I don't think we can fit in that bed.

Me, smiling, but trying not to laugh: You'll work it out.

Carter: Yeah, I think it would be best if we slept with you. I can sleep on your side and my wife can sleep on Dad's side.

Me, in all manner of seriousness: That'll depend entirely on what your wife looks like, son.

Carter: Yeah. That's what I thought too.

The Slump Over Party

Okay, so I know that it's been a month since I last blogged. Guess I've been busy with the kids out of school, then getting ready to go to school, then going to school. That or I'm really, really lazy. Take your pick.

Here we are berry picking...





Here we are at the Hands On Discovery Museum...










Here we are at the Freedom Fest at church...






This is The Husband trying to win a pie eating contest.

Carter turns six-years-old next week, and he wanted to know if we could have a "slump over party". Now, I'm pretty sure that he meant a slumber party, but now that I think about it, a Slump Over Party would be more accurate since I'm passing out tired from all of this running around. School starting is the official start of my Slump Over Party. Whoo-hoo.