Sitting

I'm currently sitting in my driveway. I hang out here a lot in the summer while my kids ride bikes.

Here's how it goes:

1. Kids want to ride bikes
2. I open garage and get bikes off hooks (they hang on the wall)
3. Kids ride bikes for 7 minutes
4. Driveway ends up covered in bikes and helmets, kids disappear

We are right on track today. The kids just got into the Otter Pops and are out of sight. I know they are eating them in the living room in front of the TV, which is against the rules, but do I want to get out of my camp chair and go inside to enforce rules? Heavens no.

Speaking of Otter Pops, I am suffering an Otter Pop injury. Ever had the sharp edge of the pouch slice your inner cheek? Otter Pops are dangerous!

Also, my kids leave Otter Pop wrappers everywhere. I've banned Otter Pops from the house, but people keep giving them to us. Why y'all got to be so giving with the Otter Pops?

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I'm currently sitting in my La-Z-Boy in the living room. It's old and threadbare, There's a hole in the arm rest, and I imagine that there are all sorts of mysterious treasures shoved in there. Boogers and garbage, mostly. But ignorance is bliss, so I'm never going to look.

I cleaned the living room and kitchen today, and it took a really long time to get the floors done. The floor will always be my greatest nemesis. Sometimes I think I should get a robot vacuum, but I don't think a Roomba could handle the task at hand. What I really need is part-time custody of a large dog. Then again, that only solves the food part of the problem. I'm not sure what to do about the broken crayons, the Legos, and the Otter Pop wrappers. My part-time dog probably shouldn't eat those.

Sitting in my recliner is the reward I'm giving myself for a job well done, yet, as I've "rested," my kids have managed to destroy the room with blankets and stuffed animals. My reward comes at a cost.

When is Roomba going to invent a dumpster-sized robot vacuum that can suck up garbage, toys, and disobedient children?

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I'm currently sitting on my bed. I can hear my kids fighting downstairs. I really just want to know the truth: do my kids fight more, less, or the same amount as children in other families?

Another mom once told me that her kids never fight. I can't even process this.

The good thing is that my kids have the capacity to reach both ends of the spectrum. When they get along, they are really amazing. Like, it's some level 10 sibling love. And when they don't get along, it's some level 10 fighting. So I guess we need to know level 10 fighting to know level 10 love.

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I'm currently sitting in my father-in-law's chair. I don't usually get to occupy this seat, but he's not here, so I called dibs! He must've eaten something cheesy recently - based on the piece of shredded cheese I found on the armrest. 

On most Sundays, we go to my in-laws' house to visit. Sometimes we go there even if they're not home - which is the case today. On Sundays we like a change of scenery. Plus their back yard is magical, so we like setting our kids free here. 

I realized recently that I've been going to my in-laws' house on Sundays for over twenty years! More than half my life! 

I didn't know that time would go so fast. 

I still feel young, and yet, I don't get ID-ed when I buy cigarettes at the gas station each week.* I look at the sign that says, "We ID anyone who looks younger than 30," and I mourn that I apparently look my age. 

Thirty-five.

Then I look over at the kid next to me - also buying smokes - and I see that his ID says he was born in 1998, and I think, "WHAT?!? Kids born in 1998 are buying cigarettes?!?"

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*I don't smoke, but a friend of mine does, and she sometimes asks me to grab a pack for her. She wants to quit, so at some point, I'm going to have to say, "I'm sorry, but I can't buy them for you anymore. It's time!" but not yet.