Adult Onset ADD

AKA...parenthood.

A strange thing has happened to me in the past 3 1/2 years. I can't seem to finish anything I start. Half the time I can hardly finish a sentence, and I am willing to bet money that I will get up at least 4 times before I complete this blog.

My days start out on track. The short one wakes me up to eat and the tall one follows shortly after. Morning nursing session is completed and I make breakfast. Serve breakfast and begin doing dishes...because they were not finished the night before.

I wash 2 plates and 4 spoons and notice the short one is using the dog as a jungle gym. Extract the poor dog's ear from the death grip of an 8 month old and resume dishes. *Crap* I remember that Kevin has no clean shirts/pants/socks/underwear for the next day.

I gather laundry, sort and begin a load. (For the record, I have been pulled away from this blog for the first time)

Get back to dishes. Wash a fork and one sippy cup.

Tall one asks for a cup of juice. I pour the juice. Tall one now wants to paint. I get out smock, paint, brushes and paper. I read the riot act about not painting the floor/table/wall/little sister. Oops. Time to change a diaper.

Change the diaper and notice there is more hair on the carpet than the dog. Pick up toys, pull out vacuum, save dog once again from the short one and vacuum 1/4 of the living room. Tall one trips over vacuum cord and lands on dog. Now I have a crying pre-schooler and a Corgi with blue handprints. Pick up child, wipes tears and apologize to the dog. She'll have to stay blue.

Nurse the short one. Vacuum the rest of the living room, but ignore hallways and bedrooms.

Change another diaper.

Switch laundry from washer to dryer...start another load in the washer. Forget to close lid. (For the record...I have now been pulled away from blog twice)

Make lunch. Wash a pot and a spatula.


Change diaper and put kids down for nap.

Consider finishing dishes and vacuuming...fall into a light sleep on the couch.

Dryer wakes me up after 7.24 minutes of dozing. Pull dry clothes out and notice the clothes in the washer are just sitting there in water. Curse and close the lid. Fold clothes and put away socks and underwear when the short one wakes up.

Change a diaper and nurse.

Play on the floor with the baby and see that I need to dust. Pull out the dust rags and wipe of one shelf and three picture frames. Tall one wakes up and requests a snack.

Spend 8 minutes explaining why she cannot have ice cream for a snack. Ignore some whining and we settle on graham crackers and a banana.

Sweep the kitchen floor and pull out mop. Short one tries to eat the dog's tail. Put the dog outside.

(I've been pulled away again...seriously...will this child EVER SLEEP???)

Scramble around to find something for supper. Get out play-doh for the tall one.

Kev gets home. Hugs and kisses all around and pass the kiddos off to Daddy to cook supper in peace. In theory. Short one decides she is hungry. Feed her. Notice there is play-doh stuck in the carpet. Tell the tall one to start scraping. Remind her that yes, it IS fair.

Back to supper. I DO finish this.

We eat, we bathe kids and put them to bed. Tall one begs for potty/water/just five more minutes, PLEASE?!

Collapse on couch.

So...let's recap, shall we?

Dishes? Not done.
Laundry? One load folded and not put away. One load still in washer. Hubby still doesn't have clean pants for the next day.
Vacuuming? At least the living room is hair free.
Mopping? Eh...maybe tomrrow.
Dust is just going to come back, right?

And... The dishes aren't finished.