Mom… Mommy… Mom… Mama… Mom…

I sent my kids out back to play in the yard with toys and water stuff. My plan was to sit here in the living room where I can see them, and get some work done on the blog. I sit down and type out one sentence and one will knock on the door asking for a drink. I get up and supply the drinks. Sit back down and type out another sentence, and another will knock to let me know that someone got them wet. I assure them that yes, wet does happen with a hose and slip and slide. (yes, I actually have to say things like this to the older kids.) I sit down and type a half a sentence and someone starts spraying the door. Because the sliding glass door doesn’t have the best seal, water floods the track. Luckily it doesn’t get the carpet wet, but it does get dirty water in the track in the house, which annoys me. I get up and ask them to stop. I sit down type two words and one asks for a cold drink. I get them a drink, but it doesn’t have enough ice. I fill all cups with ice water, and as a bonus get all three kids each a cup filled to the brim with nothing but ice. Only instructions are do not chew the ice! I sit down and write two sentences and someone starts hurling their ice at the glass door. By this point it’s time to reapply sunblock and I decide to be nice and cut up a big bowl of fresh fruit for them. Cutting up the fruit, I get interrupted no fewer than 29 times. I hand them the bowl of fruit, write a paragraph and there’s a knock. The fruit is gone and they want more. This happened for hours. I’m hoping that they settle into their own summer routine soon, and will be more self sufficient, and not feel the need to ask for every little thing.
disclaimer- I am happy to do things for my kids, but I want them to be independent enough to do some things for themselves. Drying off a little so they could come in for some ice water, themselves, for example. Also, someone is still in the habit of occasionally asking permission to use the bathroom.


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4 thoughts on “Mom… Mommy… Mom… Mama… Mom…

  1. Girl, that is *me* today. I can’t sit down and edit a post without someone on my boob or needing help with his underwear on upside down. I always tell GH that I start a blogpost weeks ago and it takes me that long to finalize one.

  2. oh man. i could have written this. gage asks permission to use the bathroom too. i guess they just get into habit at school.

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