Remind me, next time a kid says their stomach hurts... to put a bucket near them BEFORE they vomit on the rug. Not my kid, but a friend who was over... anyhow, people vomit is WAY worse than cat vomit. Remind me to thank my children for not yet vomiting, and making me have to complete my parenting training. Actually, I feel pretty blessed to not have had to change any diapers. It makes me useless for watching other people's babies, but that's not a bad exchange.
Kudos to single parents. Lee is late coming home today, and I'm not sure what I would do if there was no one coming home to help... even late help. Maybe you've been in this situation before: it's after dinner and the kids are chasing each other around the house. You're doing the dishes, and enjoying a few minutes of nobody asking you WHY?. You know that the running around will end in tears, but at this point, you feel like you could not possibly care LESS about what's going on. Your brain waves are registering a low hum, and that's about it. The noise level grows and you hear a large crash, followed by debris flying across the floor. It is suddenly VEEEERRRRY quiet in the house. Do you a) enjoy the peace and quiet for a few minutes, or b) go check it out?
I checked it out, and found all my beading supplies strewn about the floor. The sound of beads skittering on the hardwood floor had not stopped. There were two children looking at me like deer caught in headlights waiting to see what I would do. I'm proud to say that I chose the high road, although a sizable part of me wanted to place hands on hips and start yelling. I said "Oh dear! Well, help me pick this up." We all helped pick it up and it was over. I did stop the running around the house at that point, although I was pleased that it did NOT end in tears as I predicted.
Sunday DID end in tears, and we weren't expecting it. H went down HARD. Lee's folks and his sister and her husband were over, so he must be feeling comfortable with them. Small comfort while I'm an emotionally wrung out rag, and Lee had to go lay down when it was over. H spent several minutes (30?) outside in just his socks and a spring jacket. (And other clothes... just pointing out the inappropriate parts of his attire.) When it was all over, I tried to make clear to him that other people MAY call the Police if he's wandering outside like that, screaming and crying, and that the Police would say "Bad Mommy and Daddy." I think he understood, but I'm not sure if we've seen the last of that kind of outburst.