My children just don't even need to be in the same room with one another right now. They cannot make it through ten minutes without screaming, screeching, squealing, and way-laying on each other. What the heck is going on around here? I just wanted to get on the treadmill this morning. Just thirty measly minutes. Seems reasonable to me, but I am a somewhat reasonable person, unlike my children who appear lately to be beastly savages that believe they must fight to the death for everything. Around minute fifteen, Madalyn comes in crying and I don't even really know what she said because she was whining and the noise of the treadmill somewhat drowned her out. Maybe I should stay on the treadmill all the time so that I could drown out the noise my children create. Hmmm... Anyway. I sent her on her way, explaining that all I wanted was thirty minutes. I would be done in fifteen. LEAVE ME ALONE. By the time I was done, I could hear, over the noise of the THS: The Kardashians special on the television and the treadmill, Madalyn screaming at the most awful decibel level I have ever heard, not to mention the pitch of the scream as well. Then David chimes in. He has become a whiny, blubbering mess lately, and I am not quite sure what that is all about. And it is over nothing. Nothing at all.
Then I just want to take a bath. Just a bath. Everyone does it (or should) everyday. It is one of the most basic principles of life, right next to eating and sleeping and using the bathroom. But there is nothing holy and sacred in this house anymore. There is no time that my children ever stop and think, "I'll bet my mom really doesn't want to be bothered with trivial tattling at this juncture." Oh, no. Whatever the apparent foul, they must come right away and report the misdoings. So, I was about to shave my legs, and in comes the oldest, acting as if he were the one that was three. He is weeping and gnashing of teeth about the fact that his sister, that weighs a good twenty pounds less than he, just kicked him. Now, I know that she is a mean one, but she is also little and one kick could not hurt enough to necessitate disturbing the ritual of bathing. At this point, I asked him, "Are you bleeding? Do you need a doctor? If not then GET OUT OF HERE!!" I mean seriously. I am here all the time. It is not as if my children are away form me for long periods. Heck, they are never away from me except for school. They have plenty of other opportunities to talk to me outside the bathroom and when I am off the treadmill.
Okay. I feel better. I got it all off my chest. And, as you might imagine, David has been in here peering over my shoulder five times since I started writing. He wants me to play checkers. That's fine. I will play checkers. But I will not let him win today.