You've set the children up with a television show to occupy them for say at least 10 minutes, but not two have passed and the eldest comes over to say that younger brother has since aborted the show by fiddling with the buttons on the side of the television, of which I've no clue how to work, so my correcting of this problem is to turn off the television and restart it. Meanwhile spousal other chuckles in the other room as they are seeing to their email and FB. Show back up and running. One minute passes. Eldest child comes back. Same problem. Little one goes into a time out, which I must clock and then return to him to let him know he's out of the time out. Two more minutes eldest comes back to report same issues. NO MORE TELEVISION! I've send them to their room to play "nicely". Half a minute later eldest whines "Mama, I'm thirsty..."
"Well, what an be done to fix that?" I ask.
"Get a drink" he demurs.
"Great idea and fix your brother one." I say
Here though I feel the need to assist to ensure the kitchen remains somewhat intact after. Back to their room. Youngest soon brings out his finished sippy cup and tries to remove me from my chair in order to get him more. I send him on his way "back to play"... Another minute. Eldest comes out with stuffed bear and says "I've made a laundry pile". I can only imagine the destruction which is occurring. "Very nice..." and I swivel back to some more writing time. On the way I hear him offer to my husband a chance to see the pile, too. "I'll be in later" he says. Two minutes pass. Eldest comes out "want to see my set up..."
"I'll be in in a little bit", I delay.
Half a minute. Youngest comes out whining. "Go help your brother" I suggest. Five seconds later. "Mama, I'm lucky" as my eldest flashes his Bakugan card.
"I see" I say in a businesslike fashion.
The bedroom door is closed behind him and interactive play sounds from within. Ahhhh. Do I actually have time to process a thought of my own? Okay, here we go. I'm thinking.................. Sunday, blue skies, a chance for anything.
Soothing, rippling skies of blue with white etchings and a hum. Is it too quiet now? Impossible! This is the moment I have been craving. There's a reminder to schedule a doctor's appointment for one of the kids glaring at me from a post-it note stuck to my computer. Really? Do I need to contemplate that now? The sun is heating my hair. The warmth almost defrosting this brain whose sole use, it would seem for the past six years has been to care for children. Feeding, playing, loving my children. Eldest passes me by and returns.
"Mama, I'm making a play station." And back to the room he heads. Is this a warning to me of what wild messy imaginations are brewing back there? I've promised myself this time and I shall not be removed from the task at hand. Youngest comes over "aaahhhh oooouuuhhh" and back he goes closing the door behind. We're making our point clear. Eldest passes me, youngest closes bedroom door after older brother has left only to find that he now can't open it again. Scream.
"M, can you open the door for T?" I ask.
A yell out "okay..." He's gone around the back way to the secondary door. Out he comes from the door asking me for tape. The supply has been rendered no more after Christmas, but he notes that there is a stray one left behind on the tape dispenser itself.
"It's all yours!" I offer.
Off he goes again. I have to say the suspense as to what is going on in there is building, but I'm not going to be drawn away from the task at hand - to remind the mind of writing...
Page two. NO WAY! Not that anything I've written is remotely interesting thus far, but the fact that my fingers are connecting with the keyboard and words are ensuing is reward in and of itself. I shall be bragging to my spouse about my amazing efforts after this. Who's this? A hug and "I love you" from my eldest. OMG they're pulling out all the stops. Here comes youngest. Now, if he does the same I'm done here for sure. He's wandering with a connected phone (why was that in their bedroom?).
"Mama, T did this." Eldest states from beyond. "T is hanging, mama." - Okay, just don't let him hang himself I think to myself and I continue without pause and he walks back to his room. Their not used to my having time to myself and their having to entertain themselves. How good this will be for all of us actually. Attachment parenting has it's limits. Not that I followed any rules, I just did what felt right by them and me and now I'm feeling like we could use the independent time for each of us to learn something from it. They're sneaking about the house now heading for the kitchen. They don't know how to work the heavy appliances, so I'm doubtful much dread will ensue. Youngest is peeling me literally from the computer and my seat.
"Go help your brother draw" and I send him to the white board that I set up for them to be creative while I'm trying to be creative. I'm hoping the youngest won't actually draw on the wall, but I've bought Magic Erasures, so let him go to town... Okay, the sun is burning me now. I should be sapping up the fabulous heat on this cool day, but one can't help to think of skin disease when the heat of the sun starts to make you feel like you've been shut up inside an oven. I'll attend to the blinds momentarily - another distraction.
"T!" a sharp rebuttal for something the youngest has done to big brother.
"Mama, mama, mama..." the wee one sings.
It's like he's making fun of his older brother. As long as they're together I don't feel the need to oversee what the littlest one might be getting into.
I pause to delve my mind for some actual material, but with patterings of little feet and hands nearby it's nearly impossible to get anything of real use out of my brain and the screech ensues and I hear the eldest "Mama, did you put that boot on T?" Ah, so the littlest is trying to put on his own boots. A milestone in the making. This may require more screams, but I'll let them work it out as the wee one will spout his wills without any true needs. Okay, my temperature is likely reaching the 100 degree mark and my head is really hot. There's a lot of shifting of things behind me, but I'm determined not to be set off track. In my mind being able to set myself to task is accomplishment of it's own at this point in time.
"Mama, look at my heart," says my oldest. Ah, it's too sweet! He's drawing hearts on the white board. Littlest sounds like he's going through the paper recycling and spreading it all over the floor. Don't look! Don't look! You'll be cleaning it up soon enough, but to look will distract you for good.
"Aw, mama, look..." says eldest referencing (I'm certain) the mess that the youngest has created. Yes, it takes but a second to make a mess. I shall overcome this... Longer to clean, but worth it in my mind for a little creative mess here. The sun is moving and the persistent heat is letting up from the back of my head a bit.
"Mama, why don't you breastfeed T with this...?" my eldest asks.
Ah, great. I'm getting breastfeeding advice from a six year old. As he passes me the breast pump which I'd set aside long ago in the hopes to find it a new home. Please... please... put them away. Eldest says "mama, I've bottled my voice" and places the breast pump and bottle on my desk. Okay, the comedic intervals are so worth it! Yet, distracting and now I can't focus at all on the task at hand other than to keep my hands planted on the keyboard. I tell myself if I remove them then I'm destined to never write again. Damn, I have to look. did they lose the pieces to the breast pump? Hard to say, but I see the destruction. Shoes strewn everywhere, missing sippy cups from weeks ago suddenly reveal themselves. Ah, they were under there. Okay, there's a silver lining now. Eldest asks again for a show on the television. They've been doing so well... Okay, I guess I'll call it now. I don't want them to feel like they're being punished after allowing me "some" creative time to myself... Eldest is with daddy and they're discussing showers that need to be taken. I walk away before he sees me and tries to entice me into television nothingness for him. This is really good for us all...
I know that I've got little more than crap here, but I feel vindicated by having absorbed myself into what feels like creative time by just typing and feeling and not being distracted. Okay, there clearly are lies in that statement, but the truth exists, too.
The boys are getting involved in a board game in the dining room. T says "poopoo", I hear daddy say "go tell mama". I wait... T comes in the room. I'm off to be a mom...
