Yesterday we celebrated Labor Day by sending David off to work. I'm sure I don't get as many points as my sister once did for delivering a baby on Labor Day (she's such a show off...), but I feel like I should at least be able to put some sort of cosmic tick mark next to my name for my efforts. Um, I mean David's efforts, seeing as he is the one who had to work.
Although, I do feel like I should get some credit for the fact that, after a long day of willful disobedience on the part of my children, I did not lose my temper when I discovered Matthew and Leah had opened a package of goldfish crackers and used cups of water to making a swimming pool for them all over my back porch. When our resident tattle tale, Michael, alerted me to the mess he asked, "Are you happy, Mom?" (Obviously, why wouldn't I be happy about a bunch of wet fish crackers swimming in their own moosh all over my door mat?) Then he looked at my face and I must have looked terrifying because his expression faltered a bit and he took a step back before he said, "You're not happy at all."
I told him to help his siblings clean up the mess before I blew my top. "Blow your top!!" he exclaimed. "How would you do that?" Then he dissolved into giggles that sounded like a highly amused fog horn. I excused myself to the bathroom and remembered to lock the door.
By the time bedtime rolled around I was ready to call every single general authority who has ever stood up in conference and said that his darling wife never raised her voice at their children and say, "How do you know?! You weren't ever home!!"
But I didn't, because I have a thing about making phone calls.
And then Leah managed to make me laugh when she saw a bug and yelled, "Holy yikes!", Matthew melted my heart by climbing onto my lap and asking to "nuggle", and Michael made his bed all by himself.
Ah, parenthood. It's the best.