I'm giving myself one cup of coffee to write this post.
That's what I tell Elizabeth when she wants to play Barbies while the other two are sleeping. "I'll play one cup of coffee worth of Barbies, then I've got to get to work." I should have never let her know that I knew how to play because now she's after me all the time. And her Barbies have no clothes...who knew that we had all swimsuit Barbies?? It's troubling when your doctor comes into your beach house to check on the mom (who is sick, of course) wearing a bikini.
But then it IS a beach house, I guess.
Well, today is day three of survival with my husband out of town and I'm about ready to crack, people. I would say that my crew is tired of just mama, but then they won't leave me alone.
Here's how I cooked dinner last night:
Notice that pot on the stove? It held my spaghetti noodles. See those adorable children all over the floor in front of said stove?? But I really can't blame them. I remember hauling all that stuff out too when I was little - especially the old steamer Rachel's playing with. I always thought that thing was fascinating. Elizabeth likes to put the pots on top of the vents and tells me she's cooking when the heat kicks on.
Of course, then we had the spaghetti aftermath... I don't think there's any saving that shirt.
Which reminds me, I still have laundry to fold upstairs.
Speaking of laundry, in the saga of picky dressers, Elizabeth actually told me that she'd rather ME pick out her clothes. That was a couple days ago and we really haven't had any arguments, which is a miracle.
Now Rachel is a totally different story.
This would be the outfit my two-year-old picked out this morning. Why yes, those ARE white tights. And no, she doesn't WANT a skirt. And yes, that IS a Christmas shirt, since it's the most wonderful time of the year, don't you know.
Ok, my coffee's gone, Rachel's decided she doesn't NEED a nap and the laundry is now screaming at me from upstairs.
Have a great Wednesday!