My Help

They fold laundry.

They “pretend” to sleep in the basket.

They cook.

 “Hot!” he says.

They clean.

And they sit around acting cute.

With help like this, I shouldn’t complain. But seriously, it takes me all day to do a few chores. It’s like running a mile, but really you haven’t gone anywhere because you’re on a treadmill. They sure are cute, though!

Oh, well. Eventually they will be big enough and I will leave them with chore lists, just like my parents did for me and my sister growing up. Man, I hated those lists! Dusting, vacuuming, folding laundry, dishes, washing windows, mowing the lawn, and the list goes on. So I know that eventually I will get to sit back and relax… because with this many kids, surely there will be at least a couple who will do their chores.

But in reality, I’m sure I am just entertaining a wonderful idea. I can already hear the griping and complaining now. “Mom! Elsie’s not helping!” or “Mom! Why do we always have to do everything?!”

Every stage is a joy and blessing, right? Enjoy them while they are young and at home because pretty soon they will be grown and out of the house. (I say this as Elsie just stole Mallie’s pacifier. Mallie started hollering and screaming and whapped her sister upside the head. And Collin just disappeared into the kitchen to get into who knows what!). Let the fun begin. Or I should say… Let the fun and games continue!

I often wonder how other mom’s get everything done and keep the kids busy. Is there some secret? What are your tips and tricks? Seriously! I would love to hear them!

I let them play with play-doh this time to get things done. So by the time I got the laundry done, I had a play-doh mess. But it kept them entertained for quite a while and I folded clothes like there was no tomorrow.

 xxx

The Never Ending Pile

It’s always there. Everybody has it. It accumulates. It grows larger and larger every day. It’s exasperating the way these piles grow. We even add to it everyday, usually two or three times a day!

Laundry.

I have piles of darks, whites, towels, and jeans on my basement floor. I even have a whole load of pink clothes (I never thought that would happen. I love having girls, too!).

I walk up my stairs and a pile awaits behind the closet door and a basket in every room. Towels cushion my bathroom floor, they need washed too.

It’s everywhere!

And I have stacks. Stacks of clean clothes sitting in baskets and on top of dressers that need to be folded or put away. There is a whole tub of mismatched socks waiting for their mate.

It’s also never-ending because of all the great help I have. I was hanging shirts in the boys’ closet and I looked down; there is Mallie pulling out all of the jeans from the bottom dresser drawer. Really?!  Great help, I tell you. At least they are cute!

Here are the girls in action helping me fold towels. Usually the floor is covered, but this time I left them only one.

And I remind myself daily not to stress out. “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”  Because laundry…well, it never goes away and it will always wait. And seriously, look at how much fun they are having!

As long as we have clean clothes to wear, it’s all good.

xxx

There are Brain Eating Ghosts in my Basement

I wasn’t able to get any laundry done today because there are  brain eating ghosts in my basement. For real.

It all started when I was doing laundry…

which is a chore I do not particularly like, but has to be done. I get in a mode of sorting and tossing, make a pile here, kick some stuff over there, glance into the other room and check on the boys. I peel off the soft pink lint from the dryer screen and smoosh it in my hand as I finish throwing in the next load of blankets, add a dryer sheet, and am ready to get outta there. “C’mon, kids! Lets go back upstairs.”

Bradley rolls up to me, “Hey, mom. Pretend I’m a ghost and you can’t see me,” he says, jumping off his scooter. (yea, we ride scooters in the basement, we have cabin fever.)

“Collin, did you hear something?” I say, playing right along and walking past Bradley.

Bradley outstretches his arms in zombie fashion and starts moaning like a ghost, “I’m going to eat your brains.”

“I can’t see anything, but I sure did hear something,” I say to Collin, running and picking him up, “C’mon, baby! We gottta get out of here!” I swoosh down and scoop Collin up, “There are ghosts down here,” and up the stairs I sprint.

At the top of the steps I glance back and see Bradley’s smile over my shoulder. I shut the door in his face. Ha ha. I love pretend.

“Ma-OOOOO-om! I was right behind you.”

“I think that ghost is upstairs now,” I say as I look over him and walk right past him. His eyes light up again and he starts chasing me, “Brains taste soooo good. MMMMmmmm…CHOMP. Chomp.”

Bradley came home from preschool with his crown. He so reminded me of Max from, "Where the Wild Things Are." Especially with all the pretending we have been doing.

I want to stop and tell him that “in real life” zombies eat brains and walk with their arms out, and ghosts float around moaning…but who says in Bradley’s world of pretend? So I play along. BUT…you have to remember who makes the rules in pretend- the five-year old, of course!

And these are my days…

Changing three sets of dirty diapers  throughout the day, waking up and feeding TWO babies at 3 am, working on a volcano sized pile of laundry before it erupts and engulfs us all with dirty clothes, scrubbing the bathroom floor on my hands and knees (and realizing these boys need to aim better), scraping toothpaste off the bathroom sink, and cooking dinner is hard work. And that is just a few of the things I do around here. We wont talk about the dust bunnies under the couch mocking me or the cobwebs in a couple of the corners cursing at me. Ok. ok. I’m getting carried away and exaggerating…only on the last part though.

I also get to…

Dance in my pajamas, build boats out of play-doh, graph with Skittles and eat the results, play with friendly monsters that live under the bed, count on my fingers and toes, build forts, eat cheese pizza under the dining room table, play with army guys, and run from brain eating ghosts…these are company perks.

xxx