All I Wanted Was a Cup of Coffee

I have not been blogging as much lately.  Partly because I have been really busy.  And, partly because I have nothing interesting to say.  I will let you decide into which category this post falls.

Don't let the cute smiles fool you.

It was early this morning.  All I wanted was a cup of coffee.  So, I lumbered out to the kitchen.  There it was;  the promised land that is the coffee pot.  Only ten feet away.  But not for me.  No.  First, I had to spend (what seemed like) forty years wandering the desert of motherhood.

I wandered over to the light switch to turn off the glaring kitchen lights (turned on by the children).  I opened a few curtains.  Much better.

The kids were wide awake.  Already bickering about something.  I wandered to the television.  Sometimes, this calms them, or at least distracts them long enough for me to get a cup.  Long live Word Girl.

What was I doing?  Coffee.  That's right.

"Mom, Samuel hit me with a cane?"  So, I broke up a cane fight.  (Don't ask why we have a cane about.)  I put the cane in my bedroom, and wandered back to the kitchen.

Now, what was I...yes, coffee.  

But between me and the coffee was Catherine, sitting on the kitchen floor, eating tortilla chips.  I took away the chips.  I ignored the crying.  I returned the chair she used to reach the chips to the dining room.  I wandered to the hall closet to get the broom to sweep up the mess.

Headed toward the coffee again, but...

I had to take time to praise Samuel vigorously for "dressing himself," even though his underpants were really a pair of pajama shorts and his pants were really an orange, plaid pair of his brother's pajama bottoms, two sizes too big.  And, his shoes did not match.  But he was so proud.

Then, like a woman on a mission, I went to the cupboard to get out my favorite mug, and got Jonah a cup for water instead.  How does this happen?

I was steps away, but I had to stop and tell Cate she could not be in the dishwasher.  I dried her (crocodile?) tears of disappointment, and took all of the "sharps" out of the dishwasher.

Back on track then.  Coffee close.  But, I had to stop and tell Cate she could not be in the garbage.  I tied up the garbage bag, while silently cursing Hubband for not taking the garbage out.

Cate began chanting, "Eat, eat, raisin brown."  That's how she says Raisin Bran.  "No, Honey.  Mommy is going to make oatmeal today."  "Eat, eat.  Eat, eat.  Eat, EAT!!"

Wait, I wanted to get a cup of...do anything to stop that whining!

New plan.  I got out a pot for oatmeal, filled it with water, and put it on the stove.

"My bucket, my bucket," Cate cried.  Different words, same whine.  This is a throw back to the weeks of vomiting, earlier in the winter, when everyone was given a "bucket."  The oatmeal pot had been Cate's.

I was standing around, trying to remember what I was doing,  (I was trying to get a cup of coffee, in case you forgot, too.) when I heard, "Mommy, Mommy.  Shoe mess."  Cate showed me the up-ended shoe basket.  A tell-tale sign of a four year old looking for two different shoes to wear.

When I confronted Sam about "shoe mess," I got an enthusiastic play by play of how big he is now, fully dressed, shod, and pooped all the way.  You go Sam.

And, then it happened.  I poured coffee into a cup.  Woohoo!!!!!

Don't let the exclamation points fool you.  The land of milk and honey, this was not.  I few quick steps to the refrigerator revealed that there was no cream.  I silently cursed Hubband, this time for leaving the container of cream on the counter for the whole of yesterday.  That was the second container I have had to dump this week, and for the same reason.  If he is not careful the OFB (Office of Family Budgeting) is going to fine him.

I had not even taken a sip, when I noticed the water boiling.  So, I went to get the oatmeal.  I couldn't reach it, because it was pushed too far back on the top shelf.  I silently cursed Hubband again, though I was not even sure if this one was his fault.  I pulled out the kitchen ladder, climbed up, and retrieved the oatmeal.
I was measuring oatmeal into the pot of boiling water, when Hubband, who was merely passing through on the way to the front door and freedom work, exclaimed, "Why is there water all over the floor!"  "What?  What water?"  I tossed him a towel, which he gave to the two year old, and told her wipe up the water.  She is closer to the ground.

Stirred oatmeal.  Stared blankly.  Blinked periodically.  You see, without the coffee it is hard to focus on getting the coffee.  But I knew there was something that I was supposed to do.

Ah, yes!  I thought I had it.  I checked my e-mail for lab results.  Simultaneously:  "Mom, can you help me button my pants?"  I was trying to type my log-in and password on a mobile device with my stumpy fingers while explaining to six-year-old that he is six years old and he should be able to button his own...."Jonah, those aren't your pants.  Those are Sam's.  Yours have a 6 on the tag.  Go get your own pants."  Only one kid was positive for strep this time!  He's a carrier and feels fine.  Note: deal with this later.

Things were really picking up then.

Broke up a fight over who gets to climb on the kitchen ladder.  Answer: no one.

Stirred oatmeal.  Thought to self, "I really need to go potty (Yes, I think potty to myself!).  I wonder if I can leave these kids alone while I..."

As if in answer, Sam spilled a bag of zip ties on the floor.  "Ninety-seven zip ties!" I exclaimed, Rainman-like.  (It was a bag of 100 and I know I had only used three.)

"Mom, I am all out of pants.  None of them have a 6!" Jonah yelled from somewhere not the kitchen.  "Check the dryer!" I yelled back.

Then I broke up a fight over who was going to clean up the zip ties.  I am not kidding.  Cate wanted to do it.  But Sam did not want her to help.  There was an actual pre-schooler brawl over this.  I had to take Cate to her room for not not picking up her brother's mess.  (I could not make this up.)

Meanwhile the oatmeal boiled over.

I never did drink that cup of cream-less coffee.  It was still sitting on the counter when I left to take the two youngest to pre-school.   I remembered it, only after I was driving home again.  I began to feel that familiar pain in the back of my neck, that would become full blown torment in an hour.  Caffeine withdrawal.

Hang it all!  I went to Starbucks.*  They fire people who leave the cream out all day.

*(Thank you, to my sister-in-law Heather for the gift card!)