This morning.

This morning so far has been beyond frustrating. I woke up around 7 as did Oliver and he wanted to be fed. Except that I had two lunches to make and three other breakfasts to provide. Since Oliver had been fed only two hours ago I figured he wouldn't starve so I put him off for 15 minutes while I dealt with the lunches and breakfasts. There is nothing else that can put you on edge like your crying baby. I think it's inbuilt to protect infants from neglect or something but I just feel all wrong if he needs something and is crying. I got it all done and was able to feed the baby. It literally gave me a few minutes to breathe and then it was Spencer's turn to drive me crazy.

Now I like to see my children well dressed. I figure that they have enough to deal with growing up today without having to worry about their clothes and what that means in terms of peer pressure etc... Now I don't spend a TON of money (I love a good bargain), but we do go to a few favorite stores at the beginning of each season and make sure the kids have outfits to get them through the season. Each year it seems that Spencer latches on to one particular outfit and wears it day in and day out. It does mean that Nathan inherits a mostly unused wardrobe the following year but for me it's incredibly frustrating. I can imagine his school teachers wondering why I only provide him one pair of pants and one shirt. But I swallow any annoyances and mostly let him make his own clothing decisions. I keep the outfit clean so at least he's not dirty as well.
This year, half the outfit of choice was a pair of blue jeans. A pretty standard vintage wash, boot cut pair of jeans. About 6 weeks into the season one knee was ripped. I don't like to see the kids in damaged clothes so I decided that I needed to put the jeans away. Well this caused untold misery on Spencer's part so I got him a replacement pair. Now it's almost Spring so this second pair have lasted awhile but they too became torn in the knee a week or so ago. Last night I crept into his room and retrieved the jeans which he has still been wearing despite the rip. I hid them in the storage room. Meaning I buried them under a pile of other clothes. The only way Spencer will accept having to wear something else is if those jeans are soaking wet or he can't find them.
So to my surprise and irritation, after Spencer had finished eating breakfast and had gone to get dressed, he came upstairs wearing the ripped jeans and a button down Sunday shirt. The kids are not supposed to go into the storage room for a start and I swear that kid can find anything I don't want him to. I told him to go and change and to put the jeans back into the storage room.

Another thing I try not to do is to put seasonal inappropriate clothes in their drawers with the exception of a few t-shirts year round for relaxing in the house in. Spencer then decided to come upstairs wearing a t-shirt and pair of shorts he normally wears as pajamas. (It's 35 degrees outside right now) At this point I was just done with it all. We were getting late for the bus and my patience was running out. I marched him down the stairs and demanded that he put on a really nice pair of brown cargo pants and a long sleeved shirt. He must have seen that I wasn't in the mood for any more messing around as he meekly complied for once. Normally this would elicit shouting, crying and slamming doors.
While Spencer finished getting his shoes on I put a sleeping baby in the car with Leia and Nathan. I was tying Spencer's shoelaces when I heard the baby screaming. According to Leia, Nathan was responsible but I had no time to find out exactly what was going on. All I knew was that we made it to the bus stop with literally 2 seconds to spare. The baby was crying once again and I was tense. The upside was that Spencer looked nicer that he has in weeks. His teacher is going to think his neglectful parents finally got a clue and bought him some decent clothes!

Back at home I sat down for just a couple of minutes to hopefully shove a bit of food down my throat when the phone rang. Leia was calling me from the school office in tears. She is doing some sort of presentation this afternoon on snow leopards and she had left a model she had made of one at home and wanted to know if I could bring it in to school. Well I looked where she told me it was and I couldn't see it. I vaguely remembered a black and white lump of modelling clay hanging around the house last night but my search turned up nothing. I had to talk Leia down. Phrases such as "I'm dead", and "I'm useless at drawing" kept coming out of her mouth and it was hard to reassure her. In the end I told her to go and request some more clay from the teacher and make another snow leopard before lunch. I tried not to sound exasperated but really she should not have brought something home that she needed at school the next day.

Meanwhile the baby fell asleep in the swing. Just as I was about to write this post he woke up screaming AGAIN because he was passing gas. I'm writing this while trying to soothe the baby and asking myself why, on top of everything else, have I been blessed with a high maintenance baby? Surely I deserved a mellow one with three kids already. That's how it should work right?

Apart from that, it's a great day!