Driven to Distraction

I've been trying to write a post, while I'm off, for the last 5 days.  I've started two really good ideas, one meh idea and this one... and I keep getting distracted.  Not by one thing in particular, but derailed by all the things.  I have a bunny in my backyard.  I hate the way the racoons keep digging up my garden.  The kids are rioting.  There is a fly in here.  The living room is a mess.  Phone?  Whar?

It's raining!
It's sunny!
It's hot! 
Bunneh!

Ugh.

I guess on paper my reasons are as good as any:  full time job, that job is hard, I have three kids, twins, a kid with special needs, I work shift work, I never sleep, I'm always tired.  The reality is a lot simpler: I'm not doing a lot right now as I am off.  OFF, I tells ya!

See, this is what people are supposed do when they are at home and not working.  They rest.  They catch up on hobbies and connect with friends.  They read and watch TV.  You can do things with the kids, whether formally organized or not, or just hang out.  Leave it to me to assume that this is some new pathology, most likely brought on by caffeine withdrawal.  But, it's not.  It's more likely that this is what happens when I don't have things looming over my head.  It's been a long time since that has occurred.

It's been refreshing frankly (and I seem to have gotten just as much done).  I'm not stressed out for a change, which is good.  In between random observations, life has gone on as it always does.

My first day off (after my last night shift) is traditionally my "silly day" as I don't sleep until the kids go down for their afternoon nap.  Usually I pick this day for all of us to go shopping, which generally gives my husband an eye twitch that lasts him a good few days.  This past week it fell on Friday, which is a great day to get groceries before the store is mobbed for the rest of the weekend.  It's also a good day to do any errands that you want to do.  This week, on a whim, I actually wanted to visit a bookstore.  That may sound like an innocuous request, but I usually don't have time to go.  I barely have time to read;  when I do,  I order books online or have Sean pick them up for me. This time, I had worked!  I had been paid! By gawd I was going into a bookstore!

Ever seen The Sound of Music?  As I walked through the front door and the first vapours of "book smell" mingled with burnt coffee hit me, I was Julie Andrews.

The hills are aliiiive, with the sounds of rea-ding...

Dramatic?  Yes.  But totally on point.

I miss puttering through books like this... I always end up buying way too much; at least I recognize that I'm still a book addict and that I can't own all of them.  As we went to the children's section and Zoe began to act out, I realized something else:

We have started the "terrible twos".
With two of them.
I have two children in the terrible twos.

We were busy feeling for looking for Lego Mini-figs for Quinn, when she started thrashing in the stroller and screaming "Help me MAMA!  HELP MEEEE!" while leaning as far out of the stroller as her harness would allow.  I could feel every eye in the store on us as I casually addressed my daughters pleas for release.  Without looking, I could also tell that husband's eye twitch was worse.  His voice was a little more taut than usual when he expressed how glad he was for me to be there "this time" as other times people have looked at him like he was a kidnapper.

*facepalm*

We continued on with our mission.  Right on cue, Wyatt started up, leaning out of the stroller the other way (possibly for balance).  He howled whilst simultaneously chewing on his finger to indicate to us that his incoming tooth was the source of his discomfort.  With now two children kicking and wailing, one of which needing Tylenol, we had to go. 

As I loaded our finds on the counter, the cashier asked "Going on a trip"?

*blink*

Maybe it was my two wailing kids in the background but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what he was saying.  Trip?  Where? With this lot? Was he mad?  Had he any idea what was involved in such a thing? Did he not know?

After an awkward pause, during which I stared at him and wrestled with the word shapes he had presented me, I dropped my eyes and answered "no" very quietly.

"Awahh" he answered (or something similar) and having paid for my new treasure, we left the store, the kids still freaking out.  They were fine once they were buckled into the Whaaambulance and we were able to complete our shopping with a minimal amount of shouting.

The raging.  The throwing of things.  The screaming.  We went to friends' house for dinner on Saturday;  they have two lovely, well trained (and child accustomed) Vizslas.  Sadly, two out of my three children would start screaming and shaking--seemingly with rage--every time one of the dogs approached for a friendly lick or sniff.  The twins would alternate ear piercing screams at random intervals.  It wasn't out of fear after the first few encounters; as time went on it just became their stock answer to a doggie approach.  It's no wonder the wine evaporated at an alarming rate.   There is hope for everybody tho' as Wyatt reached out to pet one of the pups;  however, the sniff he got in response set off another round of Baby Hulking.  Another day, I guess...

There are some side benefits to this stage.  Wyatt is now officially in the 95th percentile for weight. You can actually see by the increase in muscle mass since his surgery.  His weight will drop dramatically as he learns to walk;  that isn't that far in the future I don't think, as he managed to slowly cruise most of the length of the couch yesterday.  Our pediatrician was so impressed by both of them last week that she didn't want to see Zoe for 6 months and Wyatt for three.  He has a fabulous pincer grasp and point... even if he is only using it to turn the TV/VCR/DVD off.  And on.  And off... 

Zoe, our youngest and most loud precious, seems to require some sort of gymnastics training or her own crime-fighting circuit.  I can feel the hairs turn grey now as I remove her from the back of the couch, the bookcases, the chairs.  She is a thrill-seeker with a temper.  She also loves to play with both of her brothers, which makes my heart smile.  She is delighted to play "blocks" (Duplo) with Quinn...and anything else she can think of, but she will also take time to sit on the floor and roll a ball to her twin (despite fighting over everything else).  They rolled a ball back and forth--with very little intervention from us--one night for over 20 minutes.  She also makes sure that he gets his snack or drink first.  "Here Why-ATT", she'll say, handing him "Why-ATT's nana" (banana) or "Why-ATT's cookie".  Although I love all my kids equally, this one is my girl.  My colleagues at work are in agreement that she is Karma's way of repaying me for, well, me, but as she stops mid-gallop to bed at night and whirls around to say "Goodnight mama" and give me a kiss (and honk my nose), I think I'll let them believe what ever they like.

Distracted.  I am soooo distracted.  How can I not be?  There is always so much to process.  There is always so much to learn and experience.  Quinn is finishing Grade 1 this week.  We have to figure out his camp schedule and discuss what we can do to socialize the twins more. After now, I won't surface and see my family except in brief flashes until Sunday morning.  I will write that post on Abilism and continue my Brief History... series at some point.  Until then, as you can well imagine, Te...

BUNNEH!