Things have been uneventful here unless you count syrup on the couch, a rash of biting, a diaper blow out to end all others (necessitating extra baths and two loads of laundry), and a few moments of chaos when everyone seems to need something from Mom as eventful. Other than that it's laundry, and finishing compositions for school, a never ending battle to keep the kitchen clean, and trying to get the house back in order after the the craziness of the last few weeks.
Oh, and I answer the question when will Daddy be home at least 14 times an hour. They wake up asking, they go to bed asking, after the Skype calls they ask again. Yesterday Gabe was overtired and insistent Dad come home now. Every meal, every time the heat kicks on and they think it might be the garage door, every time the phone rings, they ask if it is him and when will he be here. Even the dog, used to dh feeding her when he walks in the door each evening, starts her watch around 4:30-5:00 and barks at every sound hoping it's him walking in the door.
I have also been trying to remember to take care of all those things dh usually does. Take the garbage to the curb, bring in the mail (I forgot this the first day), feed the dog, take the dog out 20 minutes after that, and his newest kefir experiment is looming over me. I just know I'm going to mess that one up. Trying to remember these little things with my ridiculous case of pregnancy brain has not been easy, add to that the lack of sleep because Dad is gone and it gets even worse. Who knew this old house creaked and groaned so much?
Then there are the incidentals. I'm pretty sure one of the boys turned down the water heater when I was pulling something out of the basement freezer. This happened so frequently in the past that we put a lock on the door of the closet housing the water heater. Problem is, I don't know what the heater is usually set at so I guessed. I'll know how well I estimated after this morning's shower. If there's one thing you don't want to mess with, it is my hot shower.
Uneventful... as if single parenting with five kids, especially since four of them are five and under, could be uneventful. I just found my sock super-glued to the floor, with my foot in it. When I wondered what was so sticky, I made the stupid mistake of putting my fingers in it. So I am missing a layer of skin on one finger and the other is stiff as a rock with the layer of super glue that won't come off. I rather easily unstuck my foot from the floor. Getting the sock off my foot was another matter.
Ah, just another day on the home front.
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