Farewell, old friend.

 Yesterday this cute, harmless little fellow...

  

...threw a bottle of nail polish at my computer

and did THIS to my iMac. 

(the same boy who did THIS and killed my iPhone a few months ago.) 

Does "murderous rage" resonate with anyone? Because I felt it. I was homicidal. 

My first instinct was to toss him out the window. 

My second instinct was to put him on the side of the road in a cardboard box marked "free." 

Next came the overwhelming instinct to drown my pain by guzzling a bottle of vodka. Which is a non-existent item in my LDS household, so no luck there. (I prefer to self-medicate with chocolate or carbs.)

I settled for curling into the fetal position & bawling my eyes out.

And yes, I am currently blogging on this cracked screen at this very moment. I feel like I'm looking at the gateway to "Inception," or maybe staring at a visual representation of the fractal theory. Not good for the psyche at 2:17am. 

I'm quite positive looking at this screen had something to do with the Sunday nap dream I had of all my teeth cracking and falling out. 

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

Every Monday morning I show up bright and early (9:20am), dressed to impress and cheery as can be (sweaty running clothes and slightly groggy) to do the Monday Folders for Isabelle’s class at school. It is my job to stuff the childrens’ folders with approximately 217 papers each…sign-ups for the school play, classroom weekly newsletter, PTA reminders, and the like.

This is a great gig because for 30 short minutes I can monitor Isabelle’s behavior, get a read on her social skills, shoot the occasional evil eye at the classroom bully and eavesdrop on the teacher.

Yesterday, for the first time, I took the toddler. 

Yesterday was not a great gig.

I thought surely Jack would sit in the reading corner, happy to experience a bean bag for the first time, read a book and watch the students. He did! For about three minutes, until he spotted Isabelle. Evidently, Jack did not understand this is where his big sister disappears to every day.

         “Sis!” he shouted happily, and ran to her desk.  He wanted to sit on her lap, explore the wonders of her (messy) desk and chill with the boys on either side of her.

Pretending to be invisible—which I was not...all 24 kids were highly amused—I patiently dragged him back to the beanbag and plopped several engaging books in his lap.

Jack again escaped to her desk, I pulled him away, got 2 papers inserted into folders, Jack escaped again, I pulled him back…you get the picture.

Finally, he pretended to just stay on the beanbag. Until I turned my back and was lulled into complacency, stuffing maybe a grand total of 3 folders. Then he quietly got off the beanbag, sneaked around behind me THE LONG WAY, behind the teacher’s desk, and then ran full speed to Isabelle—watched by 24 children with bated breath.

         “Sis!” he called, “Hewwp!” (help) The class erupted in laughter—of the Little Rascals variety. (someone please tell me you know what I mean by that.)

Meanwhile, I was DRESSED IN LAYERS. And I had forgotten that the school keeps the thermostat at what surely must be 940 degrees. We were providing quite the entertainment—and I was getting sweatier by the moment. Steam was coming off my head, from heat and toddler-induced grizzlement.

Somehow all the folders got stuffed, while I was trying unsuccessfully to stifle my exasperation, and I sped over to the cubbies to throw all the folders into the kids’ respective slots and get the crap out of there. 

It was at this point that Jack discovered the recess bin. The bin that holds all the 4-square balls. The balls that bounce really high. And make a loud, echo-y “BOING!” noise.

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”         

“BOING!”

         “BOING!”

         “BOING!”

Seriously, no less than six balls were sent bouncing in quick succession all over the classroom like pinballs. With ensuing Little Rascals laughter.

I tossed the few remaining folders on the teacher’s desk and got the heck out of there. Straight to McDonald’s, where Jack got an ice cream (don’t judge my negative reinforcement) and I downed a XL Diet Coke in 37 seconds flat.

And my final thought is this: Good thing Isabelle's class had a substitute that day. 

Arghh.

I finally made time this weekend to haul everyone to this spectacular park my friend Yolanda told me about. Like what usually happens when you plan an outing with four children, one of whom is a very active little 16-month boy, the plan went somewhat awry.

Thanks to this:

(notice background)

Photo 1

Photo 2Photo 3
Argh! Jack was determined to play in the stream. He made 543 beelines for the stream. He was fixated. He would not even contemplate doing anything else. I planned this little outing mostly for HIM--because he loves to ramble and play outdoors, enjoying the freedom of running around on 2 feet instead of crawling.

But no.

We wanted nothing to do with the huge field of grass. Didn't want to run around with Max and Sis, who were having an epic nerf battle. He wanted to throw rocks into the stream, precariously close to the edge, having absolutely no balance. Not only that, but he threw a fit every time we dragged him away from the stream. A FIT. EACH & EVERY TIME. Basically, he had a miserable outing and I had been positive he would have a great time.

(insert the Mother-of-Four Eye Roll.)

Here he is, making a break for it.


I managed to snap a few quick photos.

Isabelle, 8. Max, 10. Jack, 1. Mimi, 6.

Here's Mimi, with my SAME 6-yr old smile.

I love this one.

I love this one, too.

Aqua Boy and me.

Isabelle wanted so badly to have her picture taken with just her & Jack. Can you tell he was THIS CLOSE to losing it? Must...get...to...water...Throw....rocks....Jump....in...

I don't know the name of the park, but it was deep into the canyon and just surreal. I'm dying to return with just myself, my recliner camp chair, snackies, a book & a small cooler of chilled Diet Coke.

Also, there's a road that begs to have me run on it. On a day separate from the camp chair and the snacks.