Generalized Craziness

     I keep hearing other parents who say they can identify with the 'Keeping it real" stories I tell. I am so glad everyone else lives in barely controlled madness, as well. I am comforted to know that, at some point, in other parent's lives, they walk through their front door, to find at least one guilty child hiding, and another visably shaking, as she yells out the front door, "I can explain everything, Mom!" after I recently pulled into the drieveway after a 12 hour shift. But, I digress. I suppose, to appreciate this story, I need to go back a few months, to one of the occasional attempts at being one of those perfect people who think of their families, and not convenience, and attempt to try unprocessed foods, and unchemicaled cleaning products. It doesn't happen often, and it's usually out of my system after a short period of time.
     A few months ago, my good friend, Sue, and I, after months of talking about it, decided to get together in my kitchen, and make large quantities of home made laundry soap. We were SO excited. This was only the beginning! We would buy our meat fresh! In large quantities! And, go to the Farmer's Market for fruits and veggies! And make our own EVERYTHING. We could DO this! We even decided to make home made fabric softner, while we were at it. Both our youngest children were playing together, my George, her Jimmy. Sue excitedly bought two big blue totes, to store out soap in, and we saved milk jugs, to be designated for soap use. We could just refil out jugs when empty.
     We spent an entire morning at my stove and sink, making mass quantities of laundry soap and fabric softener. I had even ordered orange scented oil, to make it smell nice. As we were wrapping it all up, our awesome toddlers began pouring water in our totes of soap. After some serious questioning, it was discovered it had come from the toilet. This whole earth mother thing was looking decidedly no longer fun. We had to start all over again. 20 more gallons of soap. Okay. We got this.

     Fast foreward to last week, and I am met at the door with two little girls, and a nervous looking babysitter. "I can explain, Mom!" I was SO not in the mood for whatever was coming. I had a massive headache, and just wanted to go to bed.
     "What."
     " Well, Lexi was trying to do the laundry, and she stood on top of the laundry soap tote, to turn on the drier, and it tipped over."
     "Oh my God. ALL of it?"
     " Yes. But, we cleaned it. But we couldn't move the washer and drier." 
At this point the sitter chimed in, "Yes, it took almost 3 hours, to clean it, too. We worked really hard, and, so, the chores didn't get done..." I gazed around the living room. There was an empty yogurt container on the floor, with the licked off lid nearby. I closed my eyes, figureing it would only be worse, if I kept looking.
     "So, I called Mrs. Mc Cauley", conitnues Kaila, as Lexi remains hidden, I am sure Sue is STILL laughing over this, "And, she said that I should use two towels and a mop and bucket. Mom, I am so sorry, but, we used three towels...."
"Just. Go. To. Bed. Now." I say to the girls.  "Just. Get. Into. The. Truck. Now." I say to the poor sitter. I drove her home, and apologised for snapping at her. They really did do a good job, cleaning the laundry room. And, truthfully? I really missed my Gain laundry soap.

Monday night, I came home to a missing oven knob, and a lightbulb in the middle of the kitchen floor. When I inquired, the stories of the knob coming off were varied, but, it was on top of the mocrowave. And the lightbulb just happened to be what George played with the previous evening. I truly do not want the details of that, I suppose.
I actually feel the current sitter is trying her absolute best. She is sweet and helpful, and loves my kids, and plays with them, and does her best. I did, however recently lecture my kids, because I think they are playing her like a song. They seem to forget what their chores are, whose turn it is to do dishes, and conive as many extras as possible out of her. She seems to like it, though, and keeps coming back, so, they must not be too hard on her. If I cannot believe the things they say to me, I can only imagine what they say to her.... some of the stuff I heard this week:

"Can I have more cookies, mom?"
"No George."
"I'm Santa. Give me more cookies."

"Joe!! WHAT are you doing?"
"My slap my sister dance."

"Mom! Feel my head. It has a fever. No, not THERE! HERE!"
(Back of head) "George, you do not have a fever on the back of your head. It isn't even 6 AM, go back to bed."
"NO! My hair right there hurts. Aunt Bri cut it (Christmas Eve), and she hurt it, and gave it a fever! Call her RIGHT. NOW, and yell at her and make her cry!"

Anyhow. This is a taste of life in our household. George turns three tomorrow. I need to figure out his demand for three birthday cakes, with my work schedule. More on that later!