Monsters, Messes, and Momma's Meltdown

Since the end of school a couple weeks ago, the Monster House has become one giant conglomeration of  meltdowns and messes. First, monsters 1-3 left for 6 weeks. Then #4 started her summer jobs and is gone half the day. The daddy is working, out of state this week... again. The meltdowns and the messes are effectively robbing me of my sanity.

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I have commiserated with other Mommas on twitter about the chaos that is this week. However, for those of you who do not tweet, let me share some of the fun with you. Since Sunday afternoon, my kitchen has been hosed down with: A full bottle of BBQ sauce (which caused me to do a total kitchen lysol scrub), a full bottle of ranch dressing (another scrub), a full bottle of tabasco sauce (yet another scrub). It has been fingerpainted with Miracle Whip, toothpaste, and chocolate Nesquik syrup. I spent an hour yesterday scraping toothpaste out of the nostrils of a rocking horse. Yes folks, there IS a rabid, nose foaming rocking horse in our family room.   There is a liter of rootbeer in my family room carpet with a drying crust of baking soda over it to draw it out of the carpet padding. #6 threw a fit about something I can't now recall on Tuesday night at about 10 pm and tossed a glass dinner plate out the kitchen window, shattering it beautifully on the back yard sidewalk. Yesterday afternoon, the same child climbed out the window wearing nothing but a pair of Optimus Prime clogs and ran across the street. He opened the door of our neighbors' house and went right in. I was in hot pursuit, about 5 steps behind him. And we were in their house just long enough to hear the hysterical laughter begin.

I'm reading this and thinking, "Holy Moses, woman! Don't you watch your children?!?!" I'm sure you're doing the same. Let me assure you, these children are smarter than the average bear. The little monsters are tag teaming! Notorious #5 will do something like flood the bathroom to distract me, while the twinnie monsterlettes  climb on chairs, unlock the fridge or the front door, and proceed to create all manner of mayhem. Or they will wait until I am cussing and screaming while cleaning something up, and do something cute~ like forget where the toilet is.

Last night when the Daddy made his obligatory nightly phone call to pretend that he missed all the fun of the Monster House, and that being in Vegas for a week~ alone, in a hotel, with room service, alcohol, and gambling~ was such a trial, I told him about our adventures of the day. I have to say I am impressed and pleased with his response. It went something like this, " Yes, dear. I am aware that they are my sons, and I am responsible for every evil thought and action. I love you and I appreciate you and you are the most wonderful mother in the world. I am sorry you are having to deal with all this alone. You are amazing and buckets of awesome, and I'm coming home a day early, because I know you need a break. I'm here for you. I promise to come home and help and let you relax." Now. Do I buy it? Not for a minute. But I love that he lied so well.

Hmm. Maybe this could work in my favor. Something like this..."Hey the Daddy! You know how you leave for a week frequently, and I have to do the single parenting thing, and by the time you come home I'm begging for a rubber room reservation? So, Momma needs a vacation. Like, in San Diego. Say, around August 4-7. This year. And also? Remember.... they are YOUR sons!"

Darn it. I KNEW I should have recorded that phone call last night....

Images by Google Images unless otherwise noted.