laborofwonder

Where Whine Meets Wine

The Tale of the Master of Distaster (And His Sidekick)


So… you know those days where you feel like you’re so on top of it all? The dishes are done and put away. The laundry is washed, folded, and put away. The children are bathed, fed, and napping? If you do, leave. Right now. And never return. Unless you’ll tell me your secrets, and then I’ll wait patiently at your feet. Either that or I’ll out you as a bold-faced liar.

I will admit, lately, I have felt pretty on top of things. Laundry got caught up on. Dishes get washed. (Ok, so they’re not put away until the next time I need to wash more, but I can live with that.) My children have been fed. And bathed before public appearances. I even rearranged and did some redecorating of the house. For the most part I’m feeling more zen these days. More in control. More like I can actually survive having had three children in three years. (Ok, 3 and a half years)

So I did my salsa making and canning with a girlfriend. While it’s debatable whether or not it took less time to do it together, with all of the children between us, it was definitely more fun that way. Well, my dear friend is recovering from meningitis and left me all alone my own with two 5 gallon buckets of tomatoes for sauce. I got brave (or the fear of  having to admit that the tomatoes went bad before I got to them to my husband took over). I took out all of the tomatoes and set them on the bench to make sure they were all good, throw out the bad ones, etc. After I did that, I started getting out the pots and pans, and bowls and everything I needed to turn these lovely ‘maters into even more lovely pasta sauce.  And then this one called to me from her room, downstairs….

The Miss E

So I went to go help her with whatever crisis she was currently facing.

I returned to find that between these two, disaster had ensued:

Littlest E …aka The Master of Disaster

Sidekick of The Master of Disaster

What did I find when I came back upstairs? Well, I’ll tell you. I found all of my tomatoes being thrown on the floor, off the table and bench. I found the dog either trying to do a grape stomp, or eat them, catch them… whatever he was doing, he trampled them. In hindsight Littlest was probably clearing the bench and the pup was probably trying to catch them. That or they really were trying to ruin my life. Regardless. I found my tomatoes being smashed on the floor with the sidekick trampling them. Upon finding them in this state, I immediately yelled for the dog to get away from the tomatoes. I forgot our dog is a big, huge baby who gets his feelings hurt. He immediately began to pee. All over the tomatoes. The trampled, peed on tomatoes. There went any thoughts I had of rescuing them.

Thankfully, this one was a good helper during clean up.

Biggest

Thankfully, a glass of wine helped. And in the end, I still love them.

 

Next time, I’ll just buy my pasta sauce.

7 Comments »


I know I’ve reblogged this before. But a friend of mine asked for a printing, and I am currently struggling with Littlest being both a two year old and teething (two molars at that!)… I feel like I have an infant again. Up all night, crying all day. His siblings either have the patience of saints or are equally as tired of his “fussing” because they’ve given up their snacks, given up their toys,and even requested Littlest’s favorites for their TV time (which never happens) in order to pacify him. And the bottom picture makes me remember how teeny-tiny he was, how short that lasted, and how much I love them, and a quick reminder of why I parent the way I do… even when I want to put myself in time out. Or start drinking at 10am.

motherofwonder's avatarlaborofwonder

So as we had some quiet family time together on the couch tonight, we were doing our infant massage techniques on our kids who are no longer infants, while the actual infant (who, waah!, is no longer an infant either, but now a toddler) watched from the sidelines with interest. We began to just talk, and the big Es are currently obsessed with telling you their favorites and so their lists came bubbling out. Then they talked about things like when they get married, and when they are grown ups, and asked questions like, Will we be huuuge grown ups? And would it be ok to wait 90 years before becoming a daddy? And as we told them that it wasn’t necessary to wait 90 years, but preferred to wait until they were really grown ups and were married. I couldn’t help but think about all the…

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