Messy weekend moments. I have had visions all week of sitting down today, with a few hours to myself and writing uplifting and happy tutorials. But I can’t, I just simply can’t, because this is how my day has gone thus far…

My husband informed me that he had to work today at the last moment (he is the king of telling my something the night before or day of), so I got to awake to his alarm at some terribly early time, even if he didn’t. Ok cool. Almost dozed back to sleep, before my 8-year-old’s alarm went off. WHY?! Why would my 8-yr-old need an alarm early in the morning on a weekend?

“I didn’t want to miss anything mom!”

“You wouldn’t have been missing anything but my bad mood!”

Oh well, nothing a little coffee can’t fix. Though it’s bad sign when you wake up with heartburn. Eek.

Alright, husband gone, kids up. Seems like a good time to hide in the bathroom.

*five year old knocking on the bathroom door*

Reluctantly, “yes.”

“Mom, the kitchen is a mess.”

“I’m in the bathroom.”

“I just thought you should know.”

“Oh yes, I know.” (Why do you think I am hiding in the bathroom?!)

“Nevermind, we found a clean spot on the table…. oh, but now we spilled something there too.”

I try to decide if my phone has enough battery to never leave the bathroom. Of course it does not. Plus it is a really small bathroom and there are a great deal of clamouring and clanking sounds coming from the kitchen.

I can say, I am not generally one to seek refuge or hide in the bathroom normally (though this is not a first), but my week has been so hectic.

Seems I have been running from event to event the last three days. And everyone with multiple individuals under one roof generally agrees all it takes is two days of letting things slide for your home to look like farm animals live there. You see when the place is relatively tidy and organized, everyone tends to carry their weight and help out. And if not, it’s glaringly obvious who’s it is, and I can call them out on it. But once it gets to a certain level of messy, it seems all accountability flies out the window and everyone drops everything and anything everywhere.

Things they would never consider doing, like say dropping candy and snack wrappers on the living room floor and couches and just leaving them there. Piling shoes and boots on top of other piles of shoes (in front of the shoe cabinet, blocking the doors from even opening). Crafting supplies so deep that you can’t see the dining room table, littered with discarded clothing. Yes clothing on the dining room table, with everyone claiming they didn’t do it.
See?! – you would hide in the bathroom too. But supposedly I am the adult that has to deal with it.

So, I bravely emerge from the bathroom.

“Hi! Dad said we can make crepes for breakfast (thanks dad), but this kitchen is so messy what should we do?!”

“Clean it.”

“It’s fine we will just make the crepes, we’ve already started.”

I choose denial and walk over to the computer and sit down to start writing. I am still staring at the screen when the first egg hits the floor.

“Oops”

“Get paper towel to clean it up not the dish towel.”

“Too late.”

“Alright just clean it up.”

I sit back down at the computer realizing there is no reason to start cleaning until this crepe making tsunami is over.

I hear the second egg hit the floor. Yes, that’s right they have managed to drop two eggs on the floor, two separate times. Younger sister comes along and slips in egg and hits the floor (you can’t make this stuff up)! I learn the hard way, this is not a laughing matter. Egg coated child goes upstairs to pout. Life goes on. Two whole sentences get written.

Then the full glass of water hits the floor and shatters all over the kitchen. This time I definitely assist cleaning up and try to teach important lessons, like ‘crying won’t make it go away ( I know – I’ve tried)’ and ‘you can’t sweep up water with a broom (even if you’re super fast)’ and ‘brooms don’t work that well once wet.’ Yay learning. I also learn that the garbage is in fact overflowing. I could have lived without that fact. The good news is now there is no more sticky egg residue on the floor! Of course as I am doing the final wipe up, an airborne, flying whisk covered in crepe batter hits the floor.

But eventually the crepes get made and everyone gets fed and the smoke clears (yeah there was smoke). And the kids go upstairs to listen to music while cleaning their rooms and I have a second cup of coffee and a chance to catch my breath and write. The sun even comes out. But now it’s the time to dig deep and embark on this mess. When’s it Monday again (turns out these weekends might just kill me)?!

 

Want a glimpse of life with 4 kids for a weekend?!