Ugh...yes, that's me. I. Am. Crabby. I'm having a "my name's not Mom" kind of a day. If I have to shush, or correct, or redirect one more child...I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna break down and cry like a baby, sobbing uncontrollably with tears running down my face and boogers streaming into my mouth. That kind of a cry.
Up here in MN it is gorgeous outside. The kind of day that makes me say "No wonder my ancestors settled here" (rather than cursing them for putting down roots in this temperamental climate)...and I'm stuck. Inside cleaning. Not sure if I've mentioned it before...but, um, I hate cleaning. Loathe it...with a passion. We have begun a cleaning schedule this summer, so as not to live in a dump, we "pick up" on Monday, "clean" on Tuesday. Thing is, I wanna be outside, so I've chosen today to be a "pick up and clean" day, so that we can enjoy tomorrow without any responsibilities. And, ah...well, it's not going so great. And now I'm crabby. And now I wish Mr. Wonderful was here to help me corral these unruly kids (it was his idea to start this schedule, afterall!) into what they're supposed to be doing, instead of doing what they want to be doing (which is apparently talking really loud, fighting, arguing, asking "why" over and over, and trying to parent each other...sigh).
So, I put me in time-out. Took a little breather...vented to you, my virtual friends. Any one have any fab suggestions for me as to how to peaceably get these kiddos to help with cleaning (so that I don't want to rip of my nametag that says "Mom" and run screaming from the house?)? Oh, I sooooo wish I had a cleaning lady...but then, I guess I wouldn't be teaching my kids much, would I? Sigh (again)...the duties of motherhood, huh?