There will be a sign posted on the door that says: "No Kids Allowed!" I will have a stack of pillows, a few good novels, a vat of diet coke and a sack full of chocolate. I am locking myself in for a whole day, or at least until the vat of diet coke makes it necessary for me to leave the safety of the closet. I will not answer to calls of "Mom, Can you help me find _______________?" or "J.T. took my ______________!" I will not care that the laundry is piling up and that the beds are unmade. The kids can take the cushions off the couch and use them for trampolines.... I will not be around to say: "You are going to break your neck. If you get hurt, don't complain to me." I am not coming out, even if the kid tensions reach cold war level. Even if I hear loud crashes and crying. I am not coming out and you can't make me!
Yesterday I had to go in to the office for a few hours, immediately came home and picked J.T. up so we could meet my sister and her boys at the Water Park for a few hours. Left the Water Park and went straight to swim lessons (with air conditioner acting up), came straight home so my Mom, who was babysitting Abby for me, could leave. I got everyone bathed and changed for a program at Grandma's church and even painted Abby's toenails for the first time. While I was in the bathroom, Abby got hold of the nail polish (because her idiot mother forgot to put it away) and painted circles on her feet, legs and belly button. We were late for the program and didn't get home until after 9 p.m. Of course, the kids were whiny, I was grumpy and poor Rob got to put up with all three of us. Maybe he needs the closet more than I do.
9 months ago