Lookie what Chris brought home last night?????
He laughed like a thirteen year old girl.
I'm so glad he's finding joy in my broken back.
These last two additions to our tee-shirt collection are from the theatre department. Because my husband has tons of free time, he helps direct the orchestra for the yearly musical. Last year was "The Sound of Music." This year, "The Little Mermaid."
Chris' school is one of five musical theatre departments in the nation selected to put on this latest Disney musical. It's a test run of sorts. He's spent 60 hours or so working on the music so high schoolers could play it. You know, instead of professional muscians and synthesizers.
With Disney's written consent, of course.
Anyway, the show is this weekend so Aubrey Kate and I are going on a little mother/daughter date Saturday.
Which we are in desperate need of.
For the first time in, oh FOREVER, precious Aubrey Kate pitched a ginormous fit today. That was after Rhys threw his fit..fits.
First fit: He wanted an orange but not THAT orange.
Second: He wanted to eat his orange with a fork but not THAT fork.
Third: He wanted to eat his orange in the chair but not THAT chair.
Forth: He didn't want to go pick up Sissy from school/get buckled up/ride in the stroller/get a diaper change.
Good times.
After quiet time, Rhys and I cleaned up his room. He destroys it during quiet time. I had a friend who might be stopping by later in the afternoon so I wanted to clean up at least the biggest messes. He was happy to clean up. If it means he can come out of his room, he'll do most anything.
We finished and then went to Aubrey Kate's room. Where she had made some sort of art project on the floor. A layer of books, covered by a layer of flash cards (which, by the way, I'd spent half an hour sorting and putting in their appropriate baggies. No biggie.) and then topped off by a layer of her art work.
It was a thing of beauty.
To her.
There was no room to actually walk in the room. She was sitting on the bed unable to get out without disturbing said thing of beauty.
I asked her the same thing I'd asked of Rhys. Let's clean up your room real quick.
Annnndddd...she LOST IT.
Screaming. Crying. Throwing things. Hitting the furniture.
LOST. IT.
I backed out and closed the door.
The rule in our house, if you're gonna pitch a fit, you're gonna do it alone.
I let it go on for a few minutes before I told her to get control.
That didn't help.
She eventually calmed down...45 minutes later...when I told her either clean up this stuff now or I would start throwing every piece of it in the trash.
Took her all of TEN MINUTES to clean it up.
Ten minutes, y'all.
The rest of the night, she was fine.
Rhys, however...
Fifth: He didn't want me to wrinkle the dog on his PJ's. By putting them on him.
Do you know how hard it is NOT the wrinkle the dogs on dog covered footie PJ's?
Let me be clear about this... I spend more time trying to control my laughter more than my anger over these fits.
See, the kids have been waking up an hour or TWO early all week. And then not taking a nap.
We went to Chick-fil-a last night for Craft night and some dinner. We made it about 3 minutes before Rhys started crying, "I wanna nap!" Bless.
What the kids need is MORE SLEEP.
Oh, so much more sleep.
I could use more too since even I'm not normally up and functional at 6 am. Which is about the time every morning Rhys opens our door and slams it against the wall.
Just such a peaceful way to greet the still pitch black morning.
She gets up not long after. Because she has a second sense about people being awake and reading books and LEAVING HER OUT.
The nerve.
So if you've got a spare prayer or fifty, please pray my children sleep. And sleep well. For the rest of the week. Until they can catch back up and get over being over-tired, which lasts for days.
But if they pull the same thing tomorrow and you need me during quiet time, you can find me driving around the Metroplex while little people nap in my car.
Sleep well, Little, sleep well.
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