The Three Hour Ban

    

     Last night I came milliseconds away from driving down and checking my own damn self into the cuckoo’s nest.  It was one of THOSE nights, where I wanted to throw open the front door of my house and run away screaming and yelling and pulling every single strand of my hair out one by one.  I blame it all on the hours of 5-8 p.m., because truly, nothing good EVER happens during those hours.  So, here’s what went down:

5:15 p.m. —  Arrive home from daughter’s gymnastics to one whining dog who’s about to piss himself and two whining kids who are on the brink of death from starvation.

5:30 p.m. — Vultures start circling and begging for something to eat while dinner is being slopped together.

5:35 p.m. — Give daughter piece of cheese to tie her over and to shut her up.

5:36 p.m. — Dog jumps up on kitchen table and gobbles up half a piece of said cheese; daughter cries.

5:45 p.m. — Dinner finally served to poor, pitiful children who never get any food.

5:50 p.m. —  Table manners completely disappear; threats begin to ban Wii/DS/daughter’s new sewing machine.

5:55 p.m. — Dog needs to go out; snow covered turds fall out of poop bag while trying to scoop; wet poo on hands.

6:00 p.m. — Return inside to a full-max volume of noise coming from dinner table; final threat is made.

6:10 p.m. — Daughter finishes dinner; son not even half-way through, due to copious amounts of goofing around; timer is set.

6:25 p.m. — Son told that only two minutes remain until food is gone.

6:27 p.m. — Son tries to steal one last carrot as plate is removed from table.

6:30 p.m. — Check fridge to see if wine’s cold yet; pop open Diet Coke cause Mama needs go-go juice.

6:35 p.m. — Begin to decipher homework assignments.

6:40 p.m. — Bounce back and forth between kids and ridiculously confusing homework packet.

6:41 p.m. — Desperately check front door for sign of hubby.

6:45 p.m. — Daughter frustrated and crying as son moves on to next page in homework packet without her.

6:46 p.m. — Daughter throws herself onto ground to throw massive fit.

6:47 p.m. — Silently curse hubby for not being there to share all the family-filled fun.

7:00 p.m. — Son completes homework and hops on DS; daughter bitching/moaning cause still working.

7:05 p.m. — Hubby finally strolls in; wine’s popped open.

7:25 p.m. — Daughter’s homework complete; time for pj’s.

7:26 p.m. — Another mammoth meltdown from daughter who wants to use new sewing machine.

7:27 p.m. — Hubby allows kids 3 minutes of DS/sewing time. An agreement is made.

7:30 p.m. — Son erupts when told time’s up; throws DS down stairs. DS banned for a week.

7:35 p.m. — Hubby fends off flailing arms and legs in attempt to shove wailing son into pj’s.

7:50 p.m. — Daughter finally in bed. Puffy-eyed son brushes teeth.

8:10 p.m. — “Mommy, I’m done” heard from kids’ bathroom.

8:11 p.m. — Wipe last ass of the day.

8:15 p.m. — Vow to disappear during the following day’s 5-8 p.m. time slot.

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23 Responses

  1. hahahaha I love it!

  2. LOL The way you honestly describe those hours with humor are brilliant. Keep blogging! You are talented and entertaining. You are an awesome Mom, who would trade her sanity for the sake of her kids.

    • Thank you so much for the nice compliment & for reading! I hope you keep coming back for my of my insane tales! 🙂

  3. That sounds fairly familiar…if you set it to music, it hurts less.

    “Woke up..got out of bed…dragged a wipe across the ass. Made my way downstairs and had a cuss, and somebody spoke and I went into a dream….”

    did it work?

    • If I set it to music & drank wine with it, it might sound a teeny bit better, but still painful….

  4. LOL! Those hours are pretty bad in our house too. I hope the 5-7 pm time slot gets better for you soon!

    • Unfortunately, I hear that with more homework comes more frustration so I’m guessing I’m stuck with these damn hours for many years to come. I’m REAL excited about that!

  5. oooohhhh….scarily, eerily accurate. Except I don’t have to deal with homework (yet)

    • Oh, just you wait — homework makes it so much more fun! Just multiply all the fits, fights, & frustration by 10 & you’ve got yourself an all-out party!

  6. Welcome to my world, and I thought I was the only one with kids like that. I know yours are a bit smaller. I have shot and thrown away both of mine many times over. Got to Love them though.
    Make them scoop snow tonight if they get too noisy.

    • Never a dull moment, that’s fo shizzle. I get tired of running on this damn hamster wheel all day & never getting anywhere! I hear my imaginary tropical island calling my name….

  7. Wow, sounds frighteningly familiar. Are you SURE you are not living in my house? I swear 7-9 am and 5 – 8 pm should be banned/eliminated. Or at least someone else can take that shift, thank you very much.

    • I would sooooooo love to have a night shift crew come in. And a morning crew, actually. Oh hell, I just want a whole new 24/7 crew!

  8. I keep a stash of good magazines beside my toilet and fake constipation. Throw in some ear plugs and let fight it out.

    • Brilliant! The only problem is that my little punks broke the bathroom door locks & I can’t shut them out. I need a new hiding place…. Btw, @whyisdaddycryin & I are cooking something up for you finally! 🙂

  9. Throw in a 3rd whiny 16-month old following right on my heels and wanting to be held constantly and that sounds like MY Wednesday night! Isn’t life grand! Thank God for wine! Oh, that’s right, I was supposed to be on the “wagon” after all the holiday drinking. Good thing that wasn’t my New Year’s Resolution, ’cause that’s out the window:)

    • Yeah, I’ve decided the “wagon” doesn’t really work if kids are in the picture. I’ll just jog alongside the wagon with my bottle of wine. Wanna join me? 😉

  10. At 5pm on the dot chaos reigns at my house too. It must be something in the air. I hate 5pm with every fiber of my being.

  11. Isn’t there great comfort in knowing everyone else’s kids are LITTLE SHITS too?!!

    My advice: Don’t wait for the wine to chill. Mama needs to get her go-go juice going by 3P. It’s called survival of the fittest. So what if you’re still @ work? There are professionals whose job descriptions require copious amounts of alcohol intake: Lawyers come to mind. Writers a close second.

    Then, plug yourself into your iPod, play some really loud music that will drown them out (The Ramones come to mind, start w/ “We’re a Happy Family” for a sense of irony). And work on developing a very keen sense of smell for blood.

    And for godsake walk away from the homework table! Who cares if they get held back? You get to kick ’em out of the house at 18 regardless of the fact that they haven’t finished elementary school yet.

  12. I alternately call these hours the Suicide Hour and the Not So Happy Hour depending on how dark of a mood I am in. I hoped it got better. Ack! Time to go back to work, preferably at a job that starts at five.

  13. lol toooo funny….this is why I have a firm 8pm bedtime…I can’t live with it any longer…I lie and say it is for her own good…and to have a healthy life and to grow up and be a big girl someday…but the secret is out…it is really for me and the preservation of what little sanity I have left! lol Great Post

    • I hear ya loud & clear on the bedtime thing. There’s so little adult time left after they finally go to bed. I need a good 2 hours for myself, which is why I always end up staying up WAY too late every night. Thanks for reading and for commenting! 🙂

  14. Good to find that there are blog owners that care about their blogs and not publish all kind of unuseable stuff but rather try to maintain it perfect and priceless for the interest of their readers. You’ve done a good job and i thank you for that and also for not traumatizing me with useless garbage and spam.Thank You

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