This Really Is My Life

Ever have one of those days that begins with the  baby painting herself and the walls with Vaseline? That’s how my day started. Vaseline. Everywhere. The thing about petroleum jelly is that it isn’t water soluble. It also isn’t soap soluble. That makes it kinda hard to get off of stuff. In case you’re wondering, it’s vinegar and water, bleach, and a lot of scrubbing.

That was my day. Although it didn’t honestly begin that way. It really started at 3:30 when the neighbor’s dog was sprayed by a skunk. More than once. Did I mention that my windows were open? It’s not the best way to wake up.

That skunk spent a few hours hiding out under the bush in front of our house. Thank goodness I looked out of the window before walking out the front door to the car, or this would be a much more exciting blog post. Trapped in the house with 6 kids (the eldest had gotten out without being spotted by the skunk) we of course ran out of milk, dog food, and diapers. Tea towels can double as diapers in a pinch. You never know when you’ll need that information.

With a household that reeked of skunk, we closed the windows (to not let more in) and fired up the scentsy candle thingies. I’m sure that’s the technical term. I just knew the stench was gone until my neighbor dropped by after lunch. (I don’t know where the skunk was by then. I think he
left.)  She walked into my house and sniffed loudly a few times. Her eyes got wide and she pulled me away from the kids to ask “Have you been cooking butter?” I was confused until she finished “You know. Pot butter for brownies? I had no idea you were that girl.” While the naughty side of me was a teensy bit thrilled at the new I-didn’t-think-you-had-it-in-you look on her face, I explained about the skunk.”Oh, that makes more sense.” Once she left, I threw those windows open to air this sucker out and sternly warned my children to not do anything to attract police attention because apparently my house smells like a pot house. Is there even such a thing? I don’t know, and I feel like I should know especially if my house is going to smell like one!

It was while I was dealing with skunk and my dog who was half crazed with wanting to eat that skunk that the baby had time to paint herself and the walls with Vaseline. Can I still call her a baby if she’s almost two? Is there a statute of limitations on that kind of thing? Are there rules? Does anyone know them?

The afternoon passed in a blur of schoolwork that was delayed by the morning’s excitement. I had a discussion with the 13 year old about plagiarism. Did you know that it’s not plagiarism if you’re just copying down the information that you need for school? Me neither. Three pages of there’s-no-way-in-anywhere-that-you-wrote this. The 11year old was enraptured by the mad musical skills of Yo Gabba Gabba (no Mom, that’s not the name of that nice Asian fellow who plays the cello, but it’s nice that you’re paying attention.) I’m not sure what kind of mind control is in that show, but it sucks them in every time.

It just goes on from there. You get it, I’m sure, plus it’s after 10:00 and I’m tired because this is my life. It’s weird and unpredictable. It’s exhausting and frustrating. There are days like today where I spend the whole day not liking children and being the mother of seven of the little things….and then…

Then it’s time for bedtime prayers and they all pile onto the sofa together. The 9year old sits at my feet, one boy snuggles in on either side of me, and the baby climbs into my lap and they fold their hands in prayer. The 4 year old begs to lead every night and in his little boy voice begins “In the name of the Father, and of the Son….”

And I sigh with deep satisfaction because this is my life too, and it’s not such a bad one after all.