- wish fervently that the kids would just once scream/whine "DAD!" when they need something.
- vacuum up things (toys, coins, beads, etc.) because I am just too tired to bend over and pick them up.
- freeze for a moment in the shower to determine if the screams or cries I hear are joyful or painful. I'm not getting out unless absolutely necessary.
- rewash a whole pile of clothes because they sat for so long and I never got around to folding them.
- eat chocolate in bed. This has nothing whatsoever to do with being a mom. It may, however, have something to do with the size of my ass.
- don't bathe the kids. Every now and then I stop and think, "Wait. When was that last bath/shower?" I am seriously considering throwing a bar of soap in the pool.
- let the kids sleep together. Not even sometimes. All the time. As long as they're sleeping, I don't really care where it happens. Top bunk, bottom bunk, boys' room, girls' room, mattresses on the floor for a "campout" - I just don't care. Whatever involves me yelling "Go to bed!" the least number of times works for me.
- have the big kids read to the little kids. There are nights when I have too many things to do and know I won't get around to reading a story. That's the beauty of having advanced readers. They can do it for me. So, the big kids get more reading practice and the little ones get read to. Win-win.
- do things in multiples of four. Like eat Oreos or set the TV volume (always 24, 28, 32... NEVER 26, 31, 35...). Did I tell you I have OCD? Well I do. I do. I do. I do. I'm really hoping I can get it under control now that I've gone past four kids. I just don't think we can afford eight children.
- crack my own self up reading my blog. I desperately hope someone else is laughing, too.
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