Monday, February 7

A half hour of my day... trying to make lunch

It's only 12:45... TWELVE FORTY FIVE... how is this possible?

Here's just a teeny tiny look at what lunch looks like for me today (11:30 am):

Me: Making lunch
Lee: Watching TV
LC: Nipping at my ankles

I put LC in her high chair and Lee's show ends.
I turn on a different show for him.
Go back to getting lunch together for both kids.
LC signals to me in sign that she wants milk.
I give her milk but she throws it on the floor.
Apparently she wanted something else.
I get out a cracker, but she not only wanted one cracker, she wanted the whole sleeve.
There's only 6 crackers left in the sleeve, so I let her have the wrapper.
Go back towards the kitchen and I hear Lee yell out that he pooped.
I go and help him with that situation and fight him to wash his hands.
He has decided that washing of hands is optional.
I get him washed up and out of the bathroom and LC is staring at the floor.
She dumped all her crackers out and they are now all on the floor.
I pick them up and give them back to her
(yes, I'm that kind of mom, sorry),
she takes a bite out of one and throws it on the floor.
It's a fun game.
I suggest everyone tonight at dinner try it!
I look at her and decide to ignore it.
Whatever she wants to do is fine with me.
Go back to making lunch.
Lee comes in he's thirsty.
He gets his milk but it's empty.
Fill that up.
Back to lunch.
LC saw Lee drinking and wanted her milk.
Go over and give her, her cup.
She drinks it and throws it back on the floor.
I know you're shocked... me too.
Lee asks if he can "cup up paper".
I tell him I'm almost done with lunch and that he can cut paper after.
He get his scissors to "put" them where the paper is.
Me not paying attention didn't see he went after my crocheted hat like Edward Scissorhands.
Have Lee clean that up and get lunch on the table.
I sit down to eat with the kids and LC starts turning red in the face.
She's now pooping.
I say a quick prayer that 1:30 (nap time) comes quick so I can sit and stare at the wall.

I might need to run 97 errands when Steve gets home.