Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Poor Justin

I have noticed a pattern lately when we are trying to leave the house. I turn into an evil, evil person.

The scenerio is typically this. We are running a bit late because Ava has refused to do anything remotely close to being helpful with trying to leave. I feel like I am leaving half dressed because I didn't get a chance to get ready like I wanted. The dog is running around us in circles, reminding us to let her out and put her in her bag. Ava is probably crying and whinig, to compete for volume with Rhys who is screaming because he is mad about being put in his seat. Ava is suddenly anti-shoes, coat, food, car, Mommy, Daddy, life. She sometimes will have kicked off the shoes that one of us has already gotten on her. This is all taking place in entry way to the house, which isn't that big and usually where everything in the house gets dumped when coming in. (I have made a particular effort to keep that area cleaner, getting rid of the shoe carpet there, table, all that, to prevent stacking.) Justin is then asking me questions such as what needs to go in the diaper bag. I am on the verge of freaking out due to the absolute chaos and noise, and that one question pushes me closer the edge. I usually can keep calm with one, but usually there are follow up questions. I know he is trying to be helpful, but it ends up being added noise to me. No questions while trying to leave. We generally always take the same things everywhere. Check the diaper bag for diapers. I don't memorize the content. My brain is working overtime to keep from running screaming from the house to the nearest spa. I can't handle the questions. They cause me to forget how to tie my shoes. I need more DHA.