Saturday, November 26, 2011

How We Roll On a Friday Night

Yesterday Brent worked a night shift.  Boo.  Never ones to let that ruin our Friday night fun, we decided to have what we call "Brupper"~a breakfast supper.  Waffles, whipped cream, strawberries, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns.  Yippee!  Never one to pass up on offers of help, I handed out "jobs" like ice cream.  And my kids were just as excited as if it had been ice cream.  WTF?  Childhood is so weird.  So wonderfully, deliciously weird.
After dinner we watched Cars 2.  So fun.  I'm relishing these Friday nights before my kids get older and busy with other things on Friday nights...things like girlfriends and youth group and toilet papering Mr. Colten's front yard while no one is looking...

Ayden was in charge of waffles (solo: I didn't have to
oversee him at all) p.s. don't notice the baby eating
off the floor in the background

Matthew was on whipping cream and juice duty.  Lots of supervision
required... lol

Riley defrosted strawberries in the microwave

Amarys chewed on measuring cups
and looked cute

Mind the belly fat...oops, I mean bacon fat

Yummy, bacon and beer

Dinner declared a rousing success
One more of your daily dose of cute =)

And isn't it a good thing she's so cute??  Last week at the doctor's office our doctor was playing with her while examining her and she asked, "Why are you so cute?!!  What is up with you babies, why are you all so cute?!!"  And I piped in, "So their parents don't mind so much when they wake us up at night."  She laughed and said, "That's the exact right answer!"  Amarys decided to test that last night.  After I cleaned up I put everyone to bed and crawled in bed with Riley to cuddle him to sleep, and promptly fell soundly asleep myself.  At around eleven I crawled out of his bed and stumbled across the hallway to my own room.  Amarys either woke up at some point, or was already in my bed; I don't remember.  But at 3:30 Riley came crashing and crying into my bedroom, smashing the door against the wall and yelling that he wanted his milk and his water and I guess I was to blame that he couldn't find them in his sleepy state.
I don't mind if he comes in to snuggle at night, but crashing and screeching?  Not cool.  This noise and the kerfuffle of me getting up to fetch water and milk, and resettling Riley next to me woke Amarys up, who normally sleeps quite soundly until at least 5:30 a.m.  More often, 7:00.  Love to hate me, man.  I have four kids, she's a miracle sleeper and it's just fate.  Perhaps it is offset by Ayden, who got up every night for four and a half years?  Methinks perhaps.  Although as my friend Rachel put it quite well today, I'm inclined to get up myself now and then in the night to pee or have a drink of water, what makes us think our babies will be any different?
I digress.
Amarys then thought it was playtime.  She bounced and farted and slapped and pulled hair and screeched from 3:30 in the morning until 5:30.  I texted Brent at 4:00 in pretty desperate straights, and he texted me back with some work story about a guy with his fly undone and his hummer in the ditch.  My foggy brain thought, "You selfish asshole."  But my better self didn't say anything, particularly since at 4 o'clock in the morning my wonderful selfish asshole was standing on a cold street arresting low flying hummer owners to earn a paycheque to keep my selfish ass fed, clothed, and housed for another week.  [Not that this is the way I truly view this situation; we both work hard to make our dream of having four kids and an amazing family work, and my being at home doing domestic frontline duty is just as much working towards that dream as his having a job outside our home.  That income of his is shared income, and just as much a result of my work at home as it is his work at his job.  I digress again, but this is an important bit of the picture, for me].
Eventually I took Amarys out to the livingroom and tried to distract her with Baby Einstein videos so I could face the back of the couch and go back to sleep.  It worked, except that Riley heard the noise and got up yet again to kvetch and wail about milk and water and his misplaced nighttime owl but I abjectly refused to leave the couch so he just crawled under my blanket and fell back asleep again.  Meanwhile Amarys is smacking my head and watching her show, alternately.  Oh yes, and my lovely selfish asshole husband sets the thermostat to sub zero temperatures at night so we were all FREEZING until 5:00 a.m. when the furnace started up again.  In fact, I credit the cozy warmth with the return to dreamland for all three of us at around 5:30.  Wow, kids.  You can't live without them, but damn if living with them ain't hard, sometimes...

1 comment:

Caryn Ouwehand said...

I got tired reading this. Yowza.