Christmas break was awesome and we spent a whole lot of time being relaxed and spending time together as a family. We watched movies, played games, sat around the fireplace, played in the snow and read stories.
January has been tough getting back to a schedule. The kids are in a bit of upheaval and acting out because our pace of life have gone from 60 back up to 600. Add in some normal boy behaviour and a stomach bug and you have the story that made my friends say "Yeah...no...we're going to stay childless."
Last Saturday started as any other Saturday. The kids got up and played, I got up and sewed name bars on hockey jerseys and G was up in bed with a man cold.
Ozzy hasn't been super cooperative at school when it comes to his lettering. He would rather read or draw than write out sentences. I had given him fair warning that because he hadn't done his work in class. I wrote out 5 sentences for him to write out. He started at 11am.
2 hours, 45 minutes later, he had 2.5 sentences finished, had had 3-4 meltdowns and was making a sound akin to Chewbacca in mourning. The fake crying was truly something else, no tears just an over the top reaction. He didn't finished the work and thanks to his behaviour lost his privilege to play hockey that day. Honestly he was so worked up there was no way I would have asked the coaches to endure all of that.
I had to drop off the jerseys so I tried to leave the house. He was latched on to my sweater so tightly that G had to physically remove him from my body so I could get the jerseys to the rink.
I should let you know that during this who time, Amelia was happily playing along until she had an accident and thus ended up in the tub just before I attempted to leave the house.
I drove towards the rink and was enjoying the absolute quiet in the car, my first moment of peace since 11am.
I'm less than 5 minutes away from the house when my phone rings. It was G.
"You need to get back here as quickly as possible." (I'm paraphrasing of course- his language wasn't family friendly!)
Seriously?! What could possibly have transpired in 5 minutes? I figured that he was cranky because he was sick and had to deal with the craziness while I was out. I dropped the jerseys off and got back home as quickly as I could.
I was expecting the see the house on fire or hear screaming or something. Nope, it looked like my everyday house only it was so silent I was instantly terrified that the absolute worst had happened. I ran up the stair, turned in to the bathroom and just starred.
Poor G was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with his head in his hands, the shower was running but no one was in the tub, blood was spattered all over the wall and Ozzy was standing there with a tissue stuffed up his nose.
Through G's story I come to find out that Oz got a nose bleed (which happens from time to time when he is really worked up) just after I left. G raced him up to the bathroom to minimize mess (like you would). As he was reaching for some tissues Oz sneezed, blood projected across the walls and toilet and out of his nose flew a "long mucusy, blood worm type thing" that was apparently the size of an anaconda. G grabbed paper towel to clean it up and clogged the toilet. Just as he got the bleeding under control he turned around to find that A2 had pooped in the tub.
All that in about 5 minutes...
And this is why best friend 1 and her hubby have decided children are not for them.
Even if they are this cute.
No comments:
Post a Comment