"Never let them see you sweat" is a genius tag line. It's true in all facets of life. Mine, in particular, with my 3 little monsters. I can't act irritated, even if I am. I can't show frustration, even if I want to rip my skin off. And I can't expect to sit, read the paper, drink my coffee, eat my breakfast or go to the bathroom without at least one of them attached to my leg at all times. And that's on a good day. Attached to the leg I can handle. It's the whining, constant need for something and insisting on climbing on my lap and being held while I'm in the bathroom (and while we're there, I would just like to add that if the twins aren't fighting on who gets to sit on my lap, they are either arguing over the door being open or closed which usually ends up in finger injuries or I am dealing with my 5-year-old thinking it's beyond awesome to shut the door, turn off the lights and turn the fan on. All of which occurs in the 12 seconds I get "to myself" while I take a quick pee pee break).
So back to not letting my guard down . . . I think the biggest difference in this weekend's moods is, well, me. It's always me. If I'm nasty, they're nasty. And that could NOT happen today. No way. Not after yesterday. When Noah opened my eyes at 7:15 this morning, I had a new plan. It consisted of exhausting my brain by 10 am (twin's nap time) with constant ideas for the kids to entertain themselves. It's a game I like to call "playing defense". New breakfast food, dining room table made into a fort housing all of our "babies" and stuffed animals, balls of all sizes and textures bouncing around and voila! New kids. Which, in turn, led to a new me. Thank god. I am now ready for Monday. Bring it.
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