My Life of What Ifs

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Be careful what you wish for...

... because sometimes you get the opposite.

I'm not sure if it was a wish, or just a statement. But my mother often quotes me as saying "I'm going to have two boys." Obviously this is something I said long ago. Long before I gave birth to two girls. Long before those two girls turned almost nine and five and decided that they hated each other. Long before bedroom doors were slammed repeatedly throughout the day. Long before I thought being a pseudo stay-at-home-mom for the summer was a great idea.

Today for instance was a day where my work at home environment was less than ideal. In addition to my blog I also write for a local newspaper and a news website. If that isn't all time-consuming enough I have also decided to start my own business. My to-do list today consisted of a blog post, a chick-lit post, and some work on a website for my business. If you take a look at the time stamp on this post you should be able to get a feel for how my day went.

I sat down around noon when my girls were out front riding their bikes. This allowed me a whopping 15 minutes of productivity. Just as I found my groove in came tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, all adrift in sisterly bliss. "We had so much fun Mama!"my oldest exclaimed. "Ryann pulled my bike around by hooking the jump rope to it!" Jayden added. "We would stay out there, but it's starting to rain. We are going to play with barbies." Drat. For some reason indoor play is bad news. The air in here is tainted with bad vibes, vibes that make sisters turn on each other.

I wasn't even allowed to find my groove when it started. "Mama, Ryann has the baby that I want!" (Hmmm, what happened to Barbies?) "I had it first!"Ryann responded. (Oh Ryann, you're older, I have to doc you points for that old, overused, rebuttal.) "But they're twins and I want one of them!" (Jayden we don't separate twins, they grow up troubled.) "Fine, I'm not playing with you anymore!" (Again, who trained this child in the fine art of sibling fighting? The oldest never gives in, and if you do please use more style.) A few slammed doors and one slap later (oldest to youngest, on the arm) I had been pushed too far. When my threats and punishments did no good I resorted to my own old, overused, rebuttal. I called Daddy.

He was at work. I learned long ago not to call Cory at work in a fit of crazy. I don't call him with the hopes that the children will cower at the thought of their Dad driving home to start the beatings. I don't call him so he can yell at them on speakerphone. Really, I can handle them on my own. Eventually. I call him for their safety. I call him so he can talk me off the ledge and keep me from posting his two beautiful daughters on ebay (with free shipping!) I call him so he will realize what it's like being home all day in this estrogen ocean (thank you Jeff Foxworthy) while trying to start, revive, maintain a career. I call him so he will bring me home an iced mocha from Starbucks, because secretly that's all I need to be happy. I'm a simple being. But the girls shouldn't screw with me on a non-Starbucks day.

Anywho... Cory saved me, or he saved the girls, and I accomplished nothing until about 9 pm. Now here I sit wondering if two boys would have really made a difference, and if espresso after five pm is really such a great idea. Be careful what you wish for...
Stacy

2 comments:

Kristin said...

I would love to tell you that two boys would be easier, but seeing as I only have one, and he's totally kicking my butt, I am of no help. If you ever do list them on eBay, I'll throw in one terribly handsome 5 year old to sweeten the deal.

Kristen G. said...

I am right there with you & have made the same phone call to my husband while he is at work. Usually mine is a request for vodka... but starbucks works too!