Five. Boys.

Seems I like to blog from the porch... As soon as I started to type, Magnus was climbing up the lattice that lines the porch rails. I tell him to get Down all the time, but this time, it breaks on him. And it’s MY fault. I get raspberries blown at me, he’s telling MY dad, and he don’t like me “nee more”. Being called a dummy is where his mouth was tapped. Lightly. But enough to get my point across. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Ryan was called out to work, so I’m home alone with all 5. Sheamus played hard today and crashed in my bed with Master Shifu. 😸 Logan is currently dorking and eating his booger while he plays Xbox. Dryden and Braxton are playing baseball in the basement, and Magnus is testing the waters on if he can hurt himself. This boy tests me ERR. DAY. There’s no reasoning with him. His impulsiveness is off the hook and if we try to sit him down and have a conversation with him, it goes something like “Magnus, look at me. You cannot climb on things, you will get hurt. Do you understand? What di...

The front porch.... my favorite spot. It’s a beautiful morning, I have my tea, the sun is shining, and I figured I’d take a minute to post.... and then I’m accompanied by superhero-clad toddlers, and a Halo man 7 year old. *sigh* no rest for the wicked.  It’s been a bit since I’ve been on. It’s funny how I think that our life is just ordinary and the same old, but so many people say they love to hear, or read rather, about it. So here goes.  Currently, as I type, the Halo guy is asking if he can play Xbox already, or go to the store to buy his friends a card for their birthday party. He doesn’t realize that not everyone is awake and functioning as early as he. One superhero is now de-robing, Hulk is using his gloves to punch the gate to the porch, and Dad is mooning me from the living room window. There’s a random skateboard in the vicinity, and cue someone’s toe being ran over. Hulk isn’t allowed down off the porch, so his gloves have now been thrown and picked up by the othe...

9:25p  There is no better feeling than putting your kids to bed for the night, grabbing a cup of tea, and heading to a nice bubble bath. While the bath was running, I put a load of clothes in the dryer, so my chores at the end of this day are done. I anticipate bliss. Quiet. Peace....  que crying Sheamus.  He doesn’t know why he’s crying. He can’t give me a reason. He just knows that I am relaxing and has to go and break the silence. Because God knows that’s I can’t have more than a minute or two of peace and quiet. And just when I think he’s calmed down, he starts again. That whiny, half asleep crying. That’s made just so you hear them. Give in, kid. Let the sweet sounds of your white noise machine lull you to sleep. You have zero worries in this life, aside from when you get to eat the apple cake because it wasn’t done before bedtime. And we’ve already told you that you can have it tomorrow.  He’s slowing, but I have a feeling this will keep up, past when my bath w...

It’s almost 9:30a.m. And my kids are still sleeping after a long day at the ball field celebrating Dry’s championship, (Great job, buddy. We are so, so proud of you!) followed by hurrying home to stuff pizza in our face in time to walk to our spot to watch the fireworks. I’m exhausted. And I know they have to be. They ran and played and ran some more, all day, until almost midnight. The latest they’ve ever been allowed to stay up. Ever.  Because if they don’t get enough sleep, they’re nightmares. They get it honest, I’ll admit. I definitely need at least 8 GOOD hours of sleep, but I could go way, way longer if given the opportunity. I’m a marathon sleeper. Some like to run. I like to sleep.  So imagine my surprise when, after hearing them at 6:05, and dragging my body into their room, getting them a fresh cup of milk, and tucking them back in, I go back to bed and fall asleep again myself. I open my eyes and look at my phone, expecting it to be in the 7:00 range, to see the nu...

This morning has been quite eventful. Sheamus has been going off and on with a stomach bug, where he will get sick to his stomach once, and then be fine. Have a messy diaper, then be fine. It’s the weirdest thing.  So this morning, they’re up by 6:00a. He keeps saying his belly hurts but says he doesn’t have to “choke”. His gas is horrid. So I figure that’s it. Magnus is playing and says he needs to pee. He depants, and goes on the potty! Yay! I tell him no diaper today, put his pants back on and say that if he has to go potty, let us know so he can go like a big boy!  (I should preface this next part with a backstory. Magnus HATES pooping. Hates it. He won’t go for days, and when he does, everything stops, he “doesn’t like it” until he’s done. Repeats it over and over. But when he’s done, it’s a relief and he’s as happy as ever. But during those few minutes, it’s intense and he hates everything and everyone. He doesn’t want to talk about it, or anything else for that...

I made myself a waffle And sat down with my tea  My middle child came in  Said “do you have one for me” Moments before I sat down, I asked if he would rather have waffles or toast He said he wanted toast and milk I should’ve known, for waffles he likes most The twins wanted waffles also And Dryden toast, per the norm If only I had known that making what they asked for would turn into a shit storm I presented the twins with their breakfast “I don’t yike waffles!” They exclaimed. “Mom he’s taking my toast” Braxton said, To which I tried to explain. “You asked for waffles, I don’t understand.  That’s Braxton’s toast that he asked for” “No! I don’t want it, I want toast!”  Waffles, meet the floor.  Seconds later, Braxton starts whining,  that he has a sore in his mouth.  The twins are writhing on the floor This breakfast sure went south.  “This toast is hurting. Can I have waffles?”  Great.... there aren’t anymore....

I hate myself today.... I hate the person I’ve been. I have tried to check myself and make myself get out of this funk, but I just seemed to sink right back in.  I got to sleep in, so it’s not from being tired. I got to bath. Alone. And wash my hair AND shave my legs. I got to relax while the babies took a nap, and the older kids kept quietly to themselves in the Rec room. I got to fix my hair. I barely had to cook. So why, why, why, was I such a Bitch today? Why was I so mean? So defensive? So short, and nasty? Now that the day is done, I hate myself. I hated myself a few different times today, but right now, I really hate myself.  I got mad when the twins put cars or little men or crackers  in my drink, like it’s anything new. Over and over. Because they think it’s hilarious. I was SO annoyed when the older 2 kept asking me where stuff was so they could go sled riding for a little while. I was LIVID when Bane ate my boot. I picked a fight with my husband while I folded ...