The Extra Hour

This morning is the type of morning where I look at my kids and say, "I love you very much, but I really need you to go to school. Like, right now."

I blame the time change. They haven't adjusted yet, so all week I've had to do an extra hour of parenting in the morning.

This morning we had waffles for breakfast. I read books to Zoe and Eva. Nicky and Daisy put their laundry away and practiced the piano. They did their morning check lists (got ready for school, made their beds, fed their animals, etc). I did all the girls' hair. We packed lunches, picked our Halloween candy for the day, and took our vitamins. Now the kids are watching YouTube, and it's still not time to go to school.

This is pure craziness.

On Monday, Nicky spent all morning playing the kazoo. He started with "Africa" by Toto. Then he went to the Mission Impossible theme song, and eventually started working his way through every Disney song known to man. He followed me around, boasting of his talent. "Mom, I'm really good at playing the kazoo. Listen... Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doooooooo!"

Why didn't I make him stop? Because I knew eventually he would leave the house. And because I spend most of my time with him telling him to stop doing whatever he's doing. I'm forever crushing the kid's spirits. So this time, I let it go. Fine. Play the kazoo three feet from my head for 45 minutes straight in the wee hours of the morning. Just don't grow up to be a serial killer, mmmkay?

Also on that day, Zoe spent a significant portion of her morning putting stuffed animals down her pants. She would wander in the kitchen every few minutes with a new selection of animals and remove them one by one, laughing hysterically. She was so proud of herself! The other kids started calling her "Noah's Ark."

She did this all morning on Tuesday as well. Two days of stuffed animals in her pants.

Yesterday morning Nicky and Daisy wanted to have a wizards' duel. That seemed fine, and I listened to them casting spells on each other while I got ready upstairs. Then I came into the living room and discovered that they were using bread knives as wands.

Geniuses, these children of mine.

So now we have a new family rule: "No casting spells with knives."

(Add that to our other firm house rules of "No acting like a gorilla" and "No licking babies.")

And some kids just sleep for that extra hour. Can you imagine?