okay-okay-it really isn't that bad. and there are many joys. tonight we just happened to have a major explosion with rugrat #1. and kent had to go to work right in the midst of it all. I was left to deal with damage control and I'm just plain pooped because Ike has decided that since Kent worked nights this whole past week that he would wake up EVERY night around 2 or 3 wailing for him. And not go back to bed for quite some time. I'm not complaining- just documenting.
exhibit 1. here's what I mean by damage control after the breakdown of rugrat #1. Ike is checking out the destruction.
This has never happened before. Is it normal? or do we have a budding psychopath on our hands?!?! every book off the shelves, every blanket and stuffed animal off the beds. Pure chaos. He'd been sent to his room by Kent for yelling at us. Apparently he decided to take out his anger on his room. I sentenced him to clean up the books and not leave the room until tomorrow (it was seven pm). With a little help from me- he did clean up the books. Although he swears he 'can't remember' who made the mess.
and here's exhibit #2. proof that this kiddo isn't sleeping at night.
And one final picture/story to illustrate my stress. This actually happened last week and was panic inducing. Kent was working late and Laney and Taylor had arrived earlier in the day. We had put all of the kids to bed at about 7:30 and hadn't heard any noise since about 8. Taylor went up to check on Henry at about 8:15 and I asked him to look at my kiddos, too. He was gone for a few minutes and came back down to report that he couldn't find Ike. Seriously- he had checked all of the rooms and couldn't find him. I went up to check out some of his spots and also couldn't find him. I came back down to ask for Laney and Taylor's help searching the other parts of the house. I wasn't too nervous considering there were three adults in the house and Ike would have had to pass us to get much of anywhere besides out the front door which was deadbolted above his reach. They helped search the basement, garage, cars in the garage, and front room while I continued upstairs. After about five more minutes I started getting frantic. Our house isn't that big! I was checking drawers, cupboards, the laundry chute, out windows, in bathtubs, showers, closets, etc. At this point I was convinced he had been taken or was hanging dead by some cord or was suffocated in some small space. Taylor decided to go outside and start searching. After about three more minutes I grabbed my cell phone to call the police. I had no idea what else to do. He was missing.
At the same time I was looking for my phone- Kent had pulled up from work. Taylor was already outside and went straight to the car to tell him what was going on. I got to the door to see if Taylor had any luck outside (phone in hand to call the police) just as Kent was coming in. My face was completely frantic. totally panicked. He told me to wait one second and ran upstairs. Within ten seconds I heard him yell, "I found him!".
Raising kids is really stressful- and it's really hard work. And sometimes it's pretty monotonous and unrelenting. Let's just hope it's all worth it in the end :) I'm glad my parents worked as hard as they did on me! thanks, mom and dad. Does it get any easier?!