Yesterday afternoon I was awed by the little angel asleep in Seth-4yr’s bed at naptime.  I’m glad I took the time to notice, to appreciate, to watch. I left him there, home with my mom, while going to pick up his brothers. There wasn’t a calm moment again until many hours later. There wasn’t an angelic moment of any kind.

Although, at one horribly ironic point, I did have the bizarre occasion to yell at Caden-5yr to “take a halo off his.. his… twinkle thing!”  It was ridiculous. (all my early delusions of being a mom who would always use correct anatomical vocab went out the window years ago and i don’t even know how or when.)  It was ridiculous to HAVE to yell that across the house.  And really, correct terminology would NOT have helped. “Kindly remove the halo from your penis?” Um. No. That isn’t any better.   It was THAT kind of day.

In case you’re wondering, it was a leftover costume piece from a school chapel program. He was quite an angel that day. He wore the halo in the traditional manner and was fully clothed onstage.

Yesterday, Ethan-9yr was escorted to the car by his teacher. His chin rested on his chest as he walked, and his teacher did not look pleased. It was probably an excellent learning opportunity for him on how the need to be respectful to a teacher should always outweigh a need to be ‘right.’  He’s a bright kid and happens to think he’s always the most informed about everything. And a lot of the time, he IS. But learning how to keep his mouth shut, regardless of being right or wrong, will really help him.

Earlier today I was telling Mike that he totally gets this from him. Mike thinks he knows everything too. (also a bright guy, and usually he does.)  Looking back on that, it could have been a disaster of a conversation, but it turned out well.   I helpfully pointed out how much more likeable he became after I insisted, in our early marriage years,  that I never ever wanted to hear him say the words, “I told ya so!”  Those were favorite words back then. Once Mike gave those up, he became even more likeable. He didn’t really like the parallel in this story, but nodded and said, “So you like me more?”  With big brown eyes just like Ethan-9yr’s.  ”Yeah. I do. Ethan-9yr needs to learn a similar skill here.”    So the yesterday the aftermath of the Ethan-9yr thing involved much crying and talking, letters of  apologies (we’re  big on making the kids do that if ever necessary), and hugs and reassurances about life and character and love.

Also yesterday, Caden-5yr was determined to use a water bottle that came with his new bike, even though it was black and bright green and had the charming word “Painkiller” written on the side, and it was practically impossible to open. Although I DID open it, after he smirked and said his teacher was strong enough to open it at school that day. Hopefully water did not fly all over her and all over her mail, as it did with me. I told him ‘no’ on the non-user friendly Painkiller and went to use the hair dryer on the water spots all over my jeans. He cried his head off while I was gone, my high powered hairdryer drowning out the sounds of kid chaos for those precious two minutes. When I came back, my mom filled me in on two or three more chaotic events that started while I was in the bathroom with the hair dryer, and their status was chaos-in-motion, and needed Mom attention.   Which was too bad, because although it’s really loud – it’s not a bad sort of peace when you’re in a locked bathroom alone, blowdrying your butt. Not bad at all, on a day like yesterday.

Seth-4yr had a few of his own issues and he contributed greatly to a few of his brothers’ problems. Like any good little brother does.

Mike’s last appointment for the day was later than he thought, and by the time he got home I was collapsed on the couch. Two boys were splashing in the bathtub, and I was pretending not to know that they were probably getting the bathroom floor too wet. The other boy was reeling off a million questions about world history that were way the heck over my head, and I hid under a blanket while the settling of Canada was discussed without any uninformed input from under the pink blanket.  Also from under the pink blanket, a text was sent to Mike requesting a Diet Coke.

I think I quit this addiction six times last year. I’ll get around to it again, but not yesterday. And not today.

At least I don’t drink it in a bottle with the word “Painkiller” on the side.

Yet.