I'm tired. Very, very tired. I know you think that because it's Spring Break I must be over joyed!!!!! LIES, ALL VICIOUS LIES!!!!
Yes, I'm glad that I don't have to see 86 "smiling" 5th graders for another 168 hours, but that doesn't mean that I have 168 hours of absolute "free time." As a grad student, wife and mother of 4, I have no idea what this "free-time" is you speak of. Is it when I go to the bathroom and count to 4 before someone bust in and decides to hand me an invisible box of "privacy." Completing ignoring the fact that their presence while I relieve myself is the exact opposite of privacy!!!! Or maybe it's when I'm cooking dinner and I get asked 50-11-Dozen times, "Momma, what you cooking?" Or maybe "free-time" is when the kids constantly, repeatedly and without hesitation call my name. Mommy, mommy, hey mommy, mommy, mommy, you hear me mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy.... I nicely remind them that they have 2 parents and Dad is right there. But NOOOOOOO, they continue call on me. And to make matters worse, when Dad says, "Mommy's busy, what do you want?" The kids simply reply, "I want to talk to Mommy."
GIVE ME A BREAK!!!!!!
Now, let's talk about this picture. It's a Monday afternoon and I am very tired. A full day of writing papers, studying grad courses, lunch with Hubby and energized kids. I decided to cook dinner early because I have grad school this evening. So after cooking dinner and playing with 4 kids, it's now 4:30pm. One hour until class time. And I begin to drift asleep, while sitting up. I have been up since 6am and it's starting to catch up with me. Then Elliott gets into a fight with his twin. I tell him I'm too tired to put up with his disobedience and he needs to sit on the steps for a time-out. I then wake to Elliott telling me that he helped me since I was so tired. "Mommy, I helped you fixed noodles for dinner. I know you're tired, Mommy. I'm such a big boy." I didn't get what he was talking about...until I walked into the kitchen. I was afraid, I was very afraid........Welcome to Spring Break at the Lockhart Home....(P.S. Elliott ruined my okra.....)
Mommy Phoebe Free
These are simple letters to my kids...about their antics.