I read a funny alarm clock story just yesterday about this guy who bought a "better" alarm clock, or so he thought, that made you enter the date in order to shut it off. I initially thought that would be horrible! I can't imagine having to jump up and run all the way to kitchen every morning trying to look at the calendar all the while screaming out "What date it is?" frantically hoping someone would help by hollering the date out so that I could make the horrid noise stop! I got a little anxious just thinking about it!
This morning I said, "That guy didn't need a "better" alarm clock, he needed a HUSBAND and CHILDREN!" At 4:30 a.m. this morning the phone rang. Around here it only means one thing when it rings that early, someone is dead or dying. Usually never in our family, thank goodness. Today, three people are missing on Bodcau. So Frankie calls it in and starts getting dressed. Of course I am glad that he loves his job. And I am glad that he gets to help people. But I am selfish today. It is 4:30 in the morning after all, and I didn't go to bed until midnight last night. He is now up with the light on trying to get prepped to head out. Big boots clomping around, heavy bullet proof vest being lowered on and velcroed in place, clothes landing on the bed, sonicare toothbrush buzzing, and microwave beeping with something for him to eat on the road...you get the idea. So now my body has had a "nap" and I am awake after he leaves!
I finally look over at 5:30a.m., and realize I am dozing off. I felt ice cold hands and feet snuggle quietly in at 6 a.m. (which I do love that early snuggle time, and I have trained them to know the difference between snuggle time and conversation time). So I rolled over to cover her up and grab a kiss and hopefully get both of us back to sleep, only, my face meets sticky, so do my hands, as do my arms..."Laura, what is all over you?" "Mommy, I ate some donuts. I got them down off the shelf all by myself." Now my body and my bed are sticky. Well, we are up. I get her cleaned up and the mess taken care of, and I try to lie back down. By now it's 6:30a.m. Laura, of course, had other plans. She was back in her room playing. At 7:00 a.m. I hear screaming from the living room, "Laura, NO!! Oh my gosh! Laura, get away. You made the mess, and you are GOING to clean it up." Well, I'm up again it seems, knowing my 4 year old isn't going to properly clean up a mess that a 10 year old won't even touch. Laura had my rollerblades on trying to blade through the house and ran over Ann Cherie's cereal bowl as she ate in front of the TV (which they are not supposed to do!) Milk and soggy cereal is just what I wanted my still faintly sticky body to deal with this morning. Ann Cherie is still making her case for not cleaning up, and Laura is making her case for NEEDING to rollerblade in Mommy's blades. I'm making my case for Ann Cherie not eating in the living room, etc. All the while Maggie commences to turn the TV up to like 40 volume because she can't "hear her show" over all the clean-up talks! OH my WORD!! I cleaned up the cereal, took the blades off of Laura, and turned down the TV with yet another conversation about being rude with the TV noise and the need for patience. By now, I need some patience. Laura is now whiny because she has lost the blades and wants some breakfast. So I calm her down and ask her what she would like to eat. "I want the chocolate ball cereal." Great! I go get a bowl and pour the cereal and milk. I call her to the table and head back to the kitchen. Shrieking ensues. "That's not the cereal I want. I wanted the apple cereal. I never get to do what I want." There’s the real reason. I explain that she asked for the chocolate balls, so therefore I didn't pour the Apple Jacks, blah, blah, blah, and that just because I took my blades away she shouldn't throw a fit. Is it 7:30 yet? Almost. I go and lie back down. Just thirty minutes, Lord, and I will never complain again... Ten minutes later I hear another commotion in the living room. Ann Cherie it seems interrupted Maggie's show to turn on the Wii, without consulting Maggie, without giving her 1st remote, and without picking the game she would have picked if she would have chosen the Wii during her movie to begin with, etc. Ann Cherie in turn is loudly making her case. And Laura chooses right now to walk in the room with her hands and face covered in STAMP INK! OMG! So I yell, "Stop! Everybody just stop. Go get some shorts on and GO OUTSIDE!" I dramatically turn off the TV, dare them with "Betty" (the wooden spoon), and watch PATIENTLY as they STOMP loudly to get their clothes on head out to the trampoline. So, all I can say is the guy with the "better" alarm clock can BRING IT ON...or borrow my rugrats...I swear!