A dreary days ramble...

I can't decide if I've woken up on the wrong side of the bed for several days running, if I'm ready for Shawn to be home, or if I'm just ready for spring! (likely all of the above) We are having beautiful, blizzard-like weather, but it's so cold and grey, and something about it makes life feel so monotonous to me the last couple of days. Yesterday there was a sign outside the local Walgreens that said there was a winter storm warning from 8:00 am to 11:00 pm.

Last night after the never-ending question of what to make for dinner, I decided that I would cook up the stir-fry that Shawn had in mind to make on Monday night. (He was going to cook for us since the kids had piano and I usually get home from running them around at 6:00 - he ended up having to leave for Boise before we even got home.) SO... I cooked up that dinner and went through a couple of the little kids being upset about what was for dinner. One of them refused to eat and cried all through-out the meal. There's nothing like going to all that work only to have it go unappreciated! Then he cried all while I drove the older kids to where they needed to be for mutual. He did end up eating with gusto once he got home- now, why couldn't he do that in the first place?

I was feeling the witch inside starting towards the surface, so I made sure to have the littlies in bed before 8:00.

Today, after exercising at the gym with my friend Amber, I felt much better for about five minutes. But do you know, I think this monotony is affecting these little boys, too. They've been fighting and squabbling and getting "injury" after "injury" and they whined and complained as I drove over to Walmart to grab a few things - you know, before the foul weather REALLY hit-(I'm always so nervous to drive on bad roads.) Figuring that the boys were feeling a bit bored of life today, too, I offered to invite their cousins over to play. They were excited about that prospect, but when I called my sister-in-law, she said that one of her boys was really sick with the croup. When I told Nolan he couldn't come, he started to howl. Then he shouted, "I don't like you!" a couple of times, perhaps thinking that since I turn into a witch at night, this would be good behavior to use to manipulate me into wiggling my nose and making his cousin suddenly well enough to come over! (come to think of it, I do have some wonderful tricks in my bag most days - no wonder he thinks I'm magical!:) Unfortunately, nothing that magical happens after being that rude and sassy to THIS mamma!

Back in the car heading home, something happened to Abram's granola bar that he was eating - I can't say what, as he sits directly behind me in his car seat and he doesn't talk well enough to tell me what the problem was. But I found out that he talks well enough to shout, "I don't like you!" - with the exact same intonations that Nolan had used. Sigh. Why is there always a kid learning how to talk right when one of your other kids isn't using their language the way you desire them to?

Upon arriving home, I got the boys all situated playing with their play-doh ( their favorite thing to do while I shower). Abram stated that he needed toys to play in the play-doh, so I quickly grabbed whatever was nearest at hand. Apparently they didn't meet with his approval, because he took the first one and threw it on the floor as hard as he could. (And right here I would like to insert that wood floors are not very great to have with little children because you're always worried about things dinging them up or scratching them. And someday when we re-floor or move, I am going to order something cheap and durable- something that will last so well that I will be PRAYING that something will happen to it so that I can get rid of it!) Anyways, then Abram grabbed hold of the second toy, and I said, "Abram do NOT throw that on the floor!" He gave me a look and threw it down harder than the first. He got his little hand slapped. Then he buried his head in my shoulder and cried because the baby of the family never has such hard things happen to them. Poor little fellow. Maybe tomorrow his mother won't be in such a funk and everyone will be happier...