Get Out of the Freaking House

There is a book out that several people have said sounds like I wrote it. This is hugely flattering to me. It's called Go the F*** to Sleep. I could have written it since I admit, I have muttered these words under my breath hundreds of times. My kids view bedtime as a punishment no matter what. It can be 11:00 at night and I'll tell them to go to bed and Isabella will cry (every single time) that she's sorry and she promises she'll be good but please don't send her to bed. I have tried to explain to her that bedtime is going to come every night. No matter what. Every night she has to go to bed. Nine years old and still gets upset.

Anyway, I did not write that book but I would like to write one like it. It would be called, Get Out of the Freaking House. I admit that while other parents are kissing and hugging and wishing their children luck on there way out the door, I am yelling these words. Not all the time but enough. Just so you get a picture of why, I'll tell you about our morning this morning. I woke Tommy up to shower and since Belle did last night, all she had to do was get dressed and fix her hair. Of course the outfit that she picked out last night to wear suddenly didn't fit her so she proceeded to sit on her bed doing nothing. Gia was sick with a high fever yesterday so thankfully, she was still sleeping. I reminded Belle of that because she has a tendency to have loud outbursts. I went in the bathroom to hurry Tommy up and then went downstairs to make lunches. Tommy came down the stairs with no shirt on and asked where his red shirt was. I asked him when he last wore it and he said, "I don't have one but I'd really like one to wear with these pants." Ughh...I send him back upstairs to find something to wear. Meanwhile, Gia woke up and still didn't look right. The twins went rushing in but I stopped them because neither were dressed yet. Gia was crabby and clingy. I made breakfast and waited for the twins to come down. Belle finally did and I was happy to see that she was wearing something besides the pajama bottoms she has tried to wear the last three days. Tommy was taking forever and finally he came down frustrated and near tears. He couldn't get the button on the jeans he wanted to wear open. Luckily it was an easy fix since it was a snap (not really sure where he found ones that still had a snap on them but whatever...they still fit).

Tommy didn't get his treatment done because he was busy aggravating Gia by doing whatever he does that makes her grunt and cry. When he does that, Belle yells at him and I yell at him and yet he still thinks what he is doing is hilarious. Belle found Gia's box of vanilla wafers and squealed with delight that "Finally you bought something I want to take for snack!" Then I caught Tommy dumping a bunch in a baggie and saw that they had emptied the box for their snacks. I took Tommy's bag and put half back and that was when all Hell broke loose. Belle saw what I was doing and flipped out that she "needed to take a lot." I put half of hers back and she started yelling and crying that she is going to starve and she needed more! I'm pretty sure her head spun around but I was too busy putting away cookies to see. I told her and Tommy piped in that if she ate all of those, she'd get a stomachache but that only made her more mad (now that I think about it, I am not even sure those are an okay snack to bring). She went on and on about how I have no right to tell her how many vanilla wafers to bring and that I love Gia more because I buy her everything she wants. I told her to watch it because she was being borderline disrespectful and then she said something about not wanting to end up in the blog. While this was happening, Gia was screaming because Tommy felt the need to be in her face and touching her face and wanting to kiss her face and she is still sick so she was having none of it. By this time, it was one minute before the bus was coming, I didn't care about vanilla wafers or snacks or if they went to school naked, I just wanted them out. That's when I yelled, "GET OUT OF THE FREAKING HOUSE!" And now if I ever do write that book, you know the backstory.