Monday started like this. Bug comes into my room at 7:00am. His "green light" time is 7:15am. Good morning, I love you, but back to bed until green light time, buckaroo. Surprisingly, he took the news like a champ and headed back upstairs. And then? It got really, really quiet. Thinking maybe he went back to sleep (dumb), I dozed off again. (I was up way late! Have you guys read Room? It's IMPOSSIBLE to put down. I could. NOT. Stop. Reading.) Anyway, so I snoozed for about ten more minutes and woke up to a still very quiet upstairs, but at this point I got a little suspicious. The last time that boy slept past 7:15 was, like, 2008. Or so. Just as I'd worked up the gumption to go upstairs and investigate the silence, he tip-toed back into my bedroom.
You guys. I wish I had a picture, but you see, I was kind of busy going "what ... what the ... what did ... what is ... WHATINTHEHELLOMG?" He was .... blue. With green sparkles. His face, his pajama top, his buck naked bottom half. All smeared with blue paint, all speckled with green glittery sparkles. He'd not been in his room, he'd been in my "office".
About my "office"? It hasn't quite, uh, come together. (Because magic elves don't exist, that's why.) I've got all my artsy stuff crammed into one of those plastic three drawer bins in a corner. The kids know not to touch it, and they mind that rule surprisingly well. Except, I guess, in the early morning hours when mom is still in her bed because she has a late night reading hangover. BIG MISTAKE. I paid for those extra ten minutes, believe me, I did. I spent the next half hour scrubbing the desk and the carpet and the gates. After I scrubbed the kid, obviously.
And before 9:00am even came around, there was the discovery of a cat puke pile, a girl who woke with poop up her back, and a bowl of Cheerios knocked onto the dog (whether the dog did the knocking or the boy did, I'll never know, and neither of them were talking.)
However, from there? Smooth sailing, minus the hacking cough and scruffy voice the bigger little developed over the course of the day. (Oh, joy!) I took them into a boutique with ten million breakable things, and they broke exactly zero things. (They also crawled on their hands and knees pretending to be shopping kitties, but hello, pick your battles.) We grocery shopped and nobody had a fit, we did puzzles and nobody fought, and they napped long enough for me to work slash watch two baby shows on TLC *AND* the Brenda moves to Minnesota and hates it episode of 90210! Nice parka, Bren!
Bring on "The Women Tell Nothing New!" And then more of Room, but I'm instructing J he's to pry the Kindle out of my hands no later than 10:30pm. Seriously. It's that good. Or more accurately, gripping. Read it if you haven't already.
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