Why Summer is Going To Kill Me

12pm After mom puts the baby to sleep, she mistakenly thinks she can actually get some work done since the kids are amusing themselves outside.

12:11pm – Eight-year-old comes in proclaiming he’s “bored.” I instruct him that there are many things he can do, or he can do chores, but he will NOT play video games all day.

12:12:15pm – He begs me for a banana before lunch, even though his breakfast is half-uneaten at the table.

12:13pm – He pours the LOUDEST freakin’ cup of juice imaginable, slamming the fridge door and rattling ice. I reprimand him for making so much noise with the baby sleeping.

12:15pm – He inquires about staying in, again, and I yell (quietly) and send him back out, reminding him that if I have to repeat myself all summer, he’s going to have a long, bad summer. He returns outside.

12:16pm – Baby Dude comes barreling in, wanting a drink, slamming the door, and decides to stay inside for a bit. I shh him to keep him quiet. Baby is startled but goes back to sleep.

12:18pm – My oldest comes downstairs while my fingers are clicking furiously on a post. Despite being able to see I’m busy, she interrupts me to ask me about a freaking empty water bottle on the floor, wanting to know if she should recycle it or keep it out to refill. I ask her if that is absolutely necessary for her to interrupt me about while I’m working. She apologizes.

12:20pm – Eleven-year-old comes in, with twelve-year-old trailing behind her. She does NOT close the door, but he does after he pokes his head in  before leaving. I reprimand her that she needs to keep the door closed so no flies or bugs get in.

12:21pm – She proceeds to make herself the LOUDEST water bottle IMAGINABLE, even louder than her little brother moments ago, clanging ice and slamming the fridge door. I reprimand her to be quiet. Baby begins stirring.

12:22pm – She accidentally kicks a toy across the floor, clanging it against something else left on the floor. I slap my forehead as the baby is really stirring now and no one can be quiet.

12:23pm  – 12:27pm – Not moments after she leaves, my twelve-year-old now makes his way into the door to get a drink. I get loud, asking WHY he didn’t come in WITH her the first time, that the door can’t keep opening/closing/opening/closing all damn day. He confesses he didn’t want to leave our five-year-old outside on the porch alone, which is sweet, but I asked him why didn’t he just bring her to get her a drink, too. He says, “But I asked and she didn’t want a drink!’ He then runs up stairs, runs down, stomping all the way. Baby is really stirring now. I reprimand him that this door is not going to be a revolving one all day, let alone all summer.

12:27:15pm NOT MOMENTS AFTER HER BROTHER LEAVES, my five-year-old comes in. Y’know, the one who was supposedly asked and “didn’t want” a drink? Yeah, she comes in for a @#&*$@(#*&$ drink. I’m blowing a damn gasket by this point, my voice level cannot be contained. Baby is actively sucking on her hand and eyes are opening. Mom’s are closing as her teeth clench in anger.

12:29 pm – My eight-year-old comes back in, again, and I lose it. “BRING EVERYBODY IN! NOW!” Baby is full-on awake and beginning to wail now. Mom’s about to wail, too.

Mom goes Thermonuclear, Film at 11.

It’s amazing how twenty-something minutes and a front door can IMMEDIATELY ruin a friggin’ day. UGH!!