ONE HUNDRED THIRTY SEVEN….premium octane please

My tolerance level is running on fumes right now.

People never tell you when your pregnant that, once those cute adorable little babies turn into toddlers you will have to repeat yourself constantly. Ask those cute innocent little beings the same questions or make requests over and over and over again. So much repetition in fact the word ‘nagging’ keeps blinking on and off in bright RED bold neon letters in my mind.

 When children don’t listen, experts who focus on developmentally appropriate behavioral modification tactics, suggest walking over to the child and getting down on their level, making eye contact as an alternative to raising your voice.

But after the week we are having where both Cecilia and Phoebe don’t want to listen, I am thinking of combining the two forms of communication where I get down on their level and  raise my voice.

Of course I have enough self-control to simply run to the bathroom, lock the door and take a time-out. But Cecilia knows where my hiding spot is now and followed me the other day. She was making her protestations clear with the constant crying and banging on the door. In true toddler form, as soon as I came out, she was perfectly fine and suddenly consumed with laughter. She immediately dove for my leg and held on for dear life while I  dragged her 36lb body to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. She thought it was so much fun she kept trying to hop on for another ride.

to say that running a household,

planning, shopping, prepping and cooking every meal;

Making sure things are clean, tidy and in their place (don’t look at my baseboards);

Keeping up with laundry (gathering, sorting, pre-stain removal, washing/drying, folding and putting away)  for 5 people;

getting them to and from events;

Making sure everyone in the bathtub has been washed, shampooed and conditioned;

helping them learn how to clean up after themselves (easier said than done);

keeping my car free of candy wrappers, shoes, dolls, pens and Abby’s 13th diary that she has claimed that week;

As well as lesson planning and implementing all school subjects

I could go on.

I have merely grazed what it is we do when we are at home, ‘running a house’.

And that, my friends, is why my tank is running on fumes. The out-of-gas light has been on for a good week now. Surely I am due for a fill up. I think the last time I “filled up” I may have put diesel fuel in my gasoline engine.

Well, not this time!

I’m putting PREMIUM OCTANE in this tank baby!