Sundays

Typical Sunday morning. Me trying to read the paper, a blog, checking postsecret & facebook. Me trying to eat something other than soggy cheerios. Me trying to clean, finding random things in places they d not belong, needing some solitude in the bathroom and not getting it. Kids running loose. A on my lap off my lap, on my lap and off again. A in the playpen, then out again. A screaming for something, boogers streaming down his face, clanking the wine bottles together behind me, climbing on the dining room table. K asking for envelopes, tap, crayons. asking questions, saying funny things like "Hey Mama, I can blow my nose in spanish!". WTF? C is grumpy, so am I. we don't talk. He makes us breakfast. I make coffee. Then he disappears in to his office. I remain with kids. can't sit for 2 minutes. Too many things to fix, pick up, make, mend, grab, save etc. I try remember how it must have been when we had no kids. Only difference is breakfast would have been served at noon. Oh yeah, and I could have read a few articles. Listened to my music. Sat still. Gone back to bed. Had sex. Talked more then just grunt plans for the day. I can't believe the amount of stuff I can get done by the time I leave the house in the morning: Dress three bodies, a load of laundry, breakfast for kids, make two beds, tidy the bathroom, work stuff organized. out the door on time. All in under 50 minutes. I am amazing. Go Me! Interruption: K just asked: Can 2 girls get married? Me: Yes, When two people love each other they can get married. (my thoughts attached to this: well, not everywhere. It's not legal all over the place. Here it is. People are lucky here to have the choice to marry whomever they want) K: But I love you. Me: Yes, but.... um. (rubbing my face). K: Its funny when you do that. Then she's on to something else. It's a never ending task to parent. Always something to do, a nose to wipe, a place to go. feeling guilty they aren't running around outside, they need fresh air. guilty I am writing this and not reading books. The trail of mess they leave behind must be tended to. Pick up, toss out, move around. Clothes to small, too big, too tight, not right. Vaccuum, sanitize. Weird smells. Make up spells. Use our magic. Use your manners. get down! No! Yuck! Absolutley not! Let go! gentle please. What are you doing? Where are you? Oh god, stop! You are making me CUKOO! Wow, that's nice. Thank you. Hugs? Sweet. That's nice. You are good. It's ok. It's alright. I got you. I wish I could chart my moves sometimes. Maybe I could let go that I haven't done any excercise since 2008!