3:00am: "Mom, I had a tee-tee accident." "Ok, honey, just change and get in bed with us." 5:30am: "Mom [from the other one]!!!!!!!!!!!! I am going to go TEE-TEE!!!!!" "OK, just do it and be quiet."
Why all of us must be involved for one to go to the bathroom is beyond me and seems extraordinarily precious (not meaning cute) and superfluous.
Second kid then attempts to join the all-in-one-bed family circus and whines like a mo-fo when he can't have the exact spot he wants. Did I mention that Cat has joined the fun and nips my chin for attention?
Second kid is whining and carrying on to such an unbelievably pesty degree that I exile him from our room. He refuses. I insist. He stands his ground. So I frog march him to his bed, get in with him and wonder if my blood is actually boiling, think probably not but do credit the person who coined that term because it feels effing accurate.
Breakfast, coffee!, where's my backpack?, where's my library book?, a tantrum that causes us to miss carpool (mortifying and further blood-boil provoking), an extra drive to school with a come to Jesus on the way. In the carpool line, I manage the great misfortune of pulling in behind the parent who, on an entirely too-regular basis, feels it's OK to literally park in the active drop-off line to chit-chat with the parents and teachers who are opening car doors and unload the kids with such colossal slowness that I truly wonder if it's possible or if the rest of us are being toyed with. Parking in any in-process carpool line should be a capital offense.
I return home to now-angelic second kid and share looks of WTF/We Are So Tired with hubs before he spirits second kid to school. The mountain of tee-tee-smelling and overall kinda gross laundry appears unscalable but I persevere and am now on load 2. With the help of friend X, I am also making a batch of strawberry-rhubarb pie jam before I must return to school for my last day as library volunteer before this year is out.