Collin went outside with green food coloring to decorate the snow. He came back looking like this. Hmm...
What Cooper tried to sneak into the house.
The boys had a fun lunch with the Hermacinski girls.
Soon after the birth of my firstborn, I realized my life had changed drastically. This fact became especially apparent in the area of personal hygiene. Gone were the days of lounging in a hot, steamy shower followed by a marathon session of primping and polishing.
When my kids were really little, much needed showers were brief and inevitably interrupted by the wails of a lonely infant or the cries of a naughty toddler. Many a day, I couldn't muster enough energy to even attempt a shower and so I began to take on the qualities of a mom-sized "Pig-Pen" emitting a trail of stench and filth behind me.
I certainly expected things to change over time. I imagined my level of personal hygiene would rise exponentially as my children aged....or so I hoped. I've realized as certain interruptions waned, new ones swooped in to take their place.
This fact has become glaringly obvious over Christmas break. Each morning I cross my fingers and hope beyond hope that day would be the one. The day in which I finish a FULL shower sans interruptions. In the 14 days of Christmas break, this has yet to happen.
Take this morning. I slipped into the shower and enjoyed a few seconds of peace before I heard an urgent, repetitive cry of "mom."
It was Caleb and from the tone and pitch of his voice I assumed his life was in peril or the house was in flames. I dashed out of the shower with shampoo suds crowning my skull and water drops cascading down my back. I snagged a towel and haphazardly slung it around my midsection. Then, I ran to the door.
"Caleb," I screamed breathless. "What's the matter?"
In a much calmer, flatter tone, he said, "I need you to sign my math homework?"
I processed his request. He desperately/urgently wanted me to get out of my warm, cozy shower because he needed me to sign his math homework due in THREE days. If I didn't fear a slip and fall from the now saturated bathroom tiles, I would have chased him down and shook him silly.
Instead, I explained...again...I should only be interrupted from a shower in an EMERGENCY (911 sort, not homework signing sort).
I returned to the warm confines of the shower for just a few more minutes before an ear-piercing scream shot through the glass shower door. My mom instincts went into high gear. I knew this one was serious. Again, I flew out of the shower leaving a trail of water and suds in my path. I grabbed the same (now soggy) towel and headed out the door.
Cooper was in the hall in hysterics. His lips quivered and tears flooded his cheeks as he blubbered on about his finger getting slammed into a door. Cooper demanded I take him to the ER PRONTO. In my mid-shower state, I was in no position to quickly escort a crew of boys into the ER. Right then and there, I surrendered. I declared my shower officially over.
I decided maybe I'll get a full shower when they start college.