Here we go with another incredibly uninsightful post about nothing!
It's 1 AMish and I'm having another not so incredibly rare night of being the resident local insonmiaiac. This really bites because it is a forgone conclusion and completely inevitable that the not so natural course of events will lead to the chain reaction of ciaos 1. I can't sleep. therefore; 2. Hannah and Leah will wake up at 5 pm, which means that 3. I will try to get Carrie to wake up with them, which seems the obvious choice since I'm on 3 to 4 hours sleep at the time. 4. Carrie will then inform me that she actually got up with Hannah approx. 1/2 hour after I finally fell asleep and was up with her from lets say...2:30am to 4:30am and has only been asleep for the last 20 minutes. So... 5. I am now the not so obvious choice to get up with the girls on 3 to 4 hours sleep. so I will then... 6. Get up and play night of the living dead father/zombie absentee and struggle to change diapers as if it were quantum physics. This will go on for 1 1/2 hour or 2 and then I'll drag a very reluctant comatose burnt out mom out of bed to share my pain. I'll go back to bed and we'll likely rotate in 2 hour nap shifts until I go to work at three. Nothing will get done and the only thing that will occur is mass crankiness on behalf of the parental staff and the bored and dissatisfied young ones.
What else... I absolutely love and am simultaneously sick of watching Micheal Phelps win enough Olympic hardware to sink his all too muscular, in shape body to the bottom of the pool, should he attempt to wear them all at once. I do feel absolutely sorry for any and all of the other athletes that had this misfortune of being born at the wrong time to grow up in the same generation as Mr. Phelps. This is without question, HIS Olympics. Everyone else lucky to grab a medal or two or even three will pale in comparison to his 7 and counting. To be just another swimmer in the same pool this Olympics as Mr. Phelps is to have the even greater misfortune. How many average non -junkey status garden variety citizens in the U.S. can name two other U.S. swimmers besides Micheal Phelps, especially ones that haven't competed in a relay with Mr. Phelps. This truly is the Olympics of Michal Phelps and everyone else who were lucky enough to share the same pool, or lucky enough to be in the same stadium for opening and closing ceremonies with him. This is perhaps similar to all the great basketball players that hardly anyone can remember who played at the same time as Micheal Jordan, or those who were ranked number 2 and below while Roger Federer went on his reign of terror with what is otherwise known as his tennis career. To have one a major tourney in his era would mean that he didn't show up, decided he simply didn't want this one, or was sick or injured. Any other result means that the greatest ever obviously won the title and dominated in convincing fashion.
Any other randomness... Carrie, Leah, Hannah and I somehow just barely survived one of many of the shopping trips from Hades. Taking the crew to Wally World under any circumstances is bad enough; to do so on a late Friday afternoon is nothing less than a suicidal death wish. My personal favorite was when I explained on the fly to my boss as he puts on the skids to not take Leah out as she dives in front of his cart in total but all too common reckless abandonment of all thought, reason, and any sense of self preservation that led me to say,"sorry, she's Autistic and totally out of control!" No time to stay and chat and build good employee/employer relations, no time to be cordial and say "hi" to his friend or roomate (which he was I could not say, I had no chance to ask!!!) I had a toddler to catch before she could go and play chicken with another shopping cart!
Both Hannah and Leah find it to be a really great time to stand up in the kids seats in the shopping cart. This may look funny to the average onlooker, but since our children are the most clumsy, accident prone klutzes (and I say this as lovingly as I know how)alive, I find myself lunging if not diving to try to prevent imminent disaster that likely would leave to brain damage if left unchecked. There's also the tantrums and all out screeching to blood curdling primal screaming coming from Leah that leaves our fellow shoppers with nothing to do but stare. I keep waiting for DCFS
(Department of Child and Family Services) to show up one day after we're unloading the groceries. The frosty stares we get from the judgmental parents and other critics seem to just scream without words,"why don't you just DO SOMETHING!!!" Obviously, we're just bad parents who don't love our children, who are guilty of all sorts of abuse and neglect. Why else would a child scream like a primate fighting for their life?
The sad thing is I've left out most of the highlight reel from the play by play of events from the store trip. Truth is I'm starting to get too tired to remember and another part of me doesn't want to.
I love my children. Both of them. I really, REALLY do. I just want to know how to best help them so that we can ALL be happy.
Well, now that it's 1:45, I better try to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep before I'm on my childcare rotation in the wee hours.
I know that this post sucked and was likely really negative. I hope the next time I fill you in I can share something more positive. If not, I'll whine and you'll listen , skip or skim, or just fall asleep.