All Rileyed Up

It was the end of a long day. Husband left before the kids woke up and it was almost 9pm. The kids were in the shower. I opened the door, announced “time’s up” and turned the water off.

“Mommy, something is wrong with my CD player!”

Wha…?

Little No Limit brought her plastic pink and purple Disney Princess storybook CD player into the shower with her. Well, yeah, it doesn’t work anymore. Upon learning that she had broken it by taking it into the shower, she dissolved into a mass of tears and anguishing cries.

“It’s broooooookennnnnnnn…”

I had no interest in dealing with this breakdown, and with as little irritability as possible, said, “This is why you’re supposed to ask Mommy before you bring a toy into the shower.”

“You have to fix it!” she demands. (Oh yes, demands)

“I will dry it out, but I doubt it will work. I’m sure it’s broken.”

More tears. More cries. OH, THE HORROR!

Meanwhile, The Boy is hopping on the bed, naked, waiting for his lotion and telling me his bottom hurts (he had a nasty spill on his skates earlier).

So I’m looking for his lotion, Little No Limit is crying, The Boy is jumping on the bed, saying “my bottom hurts” (x100) and I’m thinking to myself, ENOUGH.

When…

Husbands gets home.

Now, when Husband gets home, there is always a skirmish. Since the kids hadn’t seen him at all that day, there was a MAJOR skirmish.

Little No Limit’s tears went from the status of an at-home water gun to Disney Spectacular Waterworks Display. The Boy jumped up and down for hugs and piggy back rides (I thought his bottom hurt?) while trying to cram his mouth (full of freshly-brushed teeth) with roasted pumpkin seeds, which Husband brought home for them.

Here is the soundtrack to my hallway:

DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY
PRIZE PRIZE PRIZE PRIZE
I BROKE IT BROKE IT BROKE IT
YOU HAVE TO FIX IT FIX IT FIX IT
SEEDS SEEDS SEEDS SEEDS

I looked at this hallway of naked children and tired Husband and again, thought to myself (while imagining banging my head against the wall), ENOUGH.

When…

An earthquake happens.

Given the circumstances surrounding our last earthquake, I’m starting to think that my stress levels have a direct proportional relationship with tectonic shifts.

ENOUGH!