One of THOSE days

Do you ever have one of those days?

One of those days where you doubt your decisions . . . decisions such as homeschooling and moving out to the middle of nowehere.  Do you ever panic and feel like you should throw out all your curriculum and start over?  Do you ever wonder if you are totally forgetting some sort of vital something-or-other that they should be learning?  And maybe you were planning on teaching it, but you were interrupted by one naughty boy who is throwing toys everywhere searching for binoculars so he can "get da deers" and another naughty boy who still needs help going to the bathroom and insists on getting completely naked for each bathroom attempt.  Do you ever worry about how far you moved away from everything?  And fear that you are stuck homeschooling unless you are willing to commit to driving about 2-4 hours a day to get your kids to a school.  Do you worry about gas prices?  Do you worry about time management?  Do you worry that your son will never, ever, ever, actually wipe his bum when he goes number 2? 

Me neither. 

 I was just wondering if you ever worried about such trivial matters.

You shouldn't worry, dear readers.  It isn't becoming.

Ah, yes.  Today is a day.

I promised all my kids they could play outside for a bit.  This is no simple task.  We first must do bathroom runs.  Little Dude has to get naked first.  Then he has to sing train songs for 10 minutes and not actually pee.  Then he gets off the toilet unbeknownst to me and begins to play trucks, forgetting he is naked and supposed to be using the facilities.

Me:  Dude!  Where's your underwear?

Little Dude:  Right on my bum!

Me:  No!  They are not on your bum.

Little Dude:  REALLY?!  Oh!  Oops!

Me:  You need to put your underwear back on.

Little Dude:  O-Tay!  First I go potty!

Me:  You just went!

Little Dude:  No!  It was not working!

And so the vicious cycle of nakedness, train songs, and peeing continues.  

So, everyone gets dressed for outside play.

Then we have to get Lucy in.

This, too, was, no simple task.

"Was" being the operative word, of course.  Thanks to many of you, we purchased a certain collar with certain spectacular features that make a certain dog more apt to behave.

It is certainly wonderful.  And I certainly appreciated the suggestion.

So.  All the kids got dressed into play clothes, coats, socks, boots, and blah blah blah.  And then the weather became fickle and we had to reverse gears and come back inside.

Oh, for the weeping.

I am really not that mean.

I mean, would it not have been meaner for me to send them out there during the torrential downpour of rain and hail?

Trust me.  I would have preferred it if they were outside.

So.  They shunned me and went downstairs.  Darn.

And during the peace and quiet, I may have panicked and ordered a new science curriculum.

Hope I like it!

Then, Little Dude interrupted me.  He was a mess.

Proof that young children should not be given markers as gifts.

(Ahem, Mom)

Notice that large bandaid-looking thing on his sleeve?  That would be Handsome Dude's eye patch.

How did it get there?

We cannot be certain.

I told the boys it was time for bed.

This brought Handsome Dude much worry and angst.

So he had to grab his *ahem* area for comfort. 

One must wonder if grabbing in this region actually does bring comfort to the male species?

 He was worried that we would not be reading books before naps.

I assured him we still would.  So he gathered 14 books and shouted for all the world his fellow homeschooled siblings to hear,

"I got the books!  Say 'Thanks!' to the hero!  I am the hero!"

That boy exhausts me.

The boys are asleep.  The girls are working on writing.  I am drinking gallons of coffee and hoping things start to look up.

They probably won't though.

I have a feeling that Little Dude will be having an accident during this very nap time.

Indeed.  I do.

There was too much singing and not enough peeing before bed.

If you know what I mean.

But here's to hoping!