Monday Madness

Okay, so I am about to sit down with some coffee and try to listen to a Beth Moore CD session, while I am making cinnamon rolls.  And the kids are asleep.

But all of that can be quite misleading.  I think people would be interested to know exactly how much madness is routine - if that is not an oxymoron - in a home with two preschoolers.  I guess if you have more, God gives more grace, because I know households with more preschoolers presided over by perfectly sane mothers.

First of all, here is lunch.  It was perhaps the most nutritionally questionable thing I've cooked them in awhile.  Ramen noodles with hot dogs, cheddar, and broccoli.  But let me tell you what.  I had a little bit of it, and I certainly would not have minded having a lot more.

See that little amount in my son's bowl?  I had just added that after he finished about three times that amount.  He actually finished his lunch.  That never happens.  So, we have a winner. Or at least, some kind of, "Most Unlikely Meal" award.

Backing up, I took the kids to the library this morning.  They actually did quite well. I was starting to get a little proud of myself.  Should have known better.  I took my daughter to the kids' potty - she did awesome - and as I was getting her readjusted afterward, the boy sat on the potty, too, and dipped his clothed bottom into the toilet.  What do you say to the eyes of surrounding mothers in the library, when they see your little boy running around with a soggy bottom?  Nothing.  You hope they either ask or come to the right conclusion.

On the way home, the kids yelled together.  They were making each other laugh.  To you who are non-moms, or older generation moms, the thought might call for serious discipline.  In me, it called forth smiles and laughter, and occasional admonitions of, "Okay, that's too loud." I reasoned that though it was a strange game, (if you can say "Aaaaah!" at the same time as someone else, you can join the team), it was at least something they were doing together with brotherly love.

Oh, did I mention my little boy likes to sleep with his fan?  

All this just in case anyone thinks being a mom is just one Better Homes and Gardens - or pick your cooler magazine - tableau after another.

Speaking of mags - I have an idea.  More later.