Cranky Monday - Bah Humbug.

I am going through a phase where the thought of spending entire days with the girls makes me cranky. I can identify why this is. Let me use today as an example:

6:45 AM - Coffee is brewing. Maggie emerges from the bedroom part of the house. "Hi Mama! I want to watch a show."

Me: "Good morning, Mags. Did you have a good sleep?"

Mags: "Yes. Can I watch the first Princess Diaries?"

Me: "Not right now, Mags. We need to have breakfast. Maybe read a book. And get dressed. We could draw on the chalkboard... or make Christmas cards!."

Mags: "I want a cookie, and I want to watch a movie on the television."

And, so, here you have it. It is still black as a pit outside, and before ingesting ANY coffee, I am faced with a choice: Give my child (and later, of course, her younger sister) over to the television for a big chunk of the day OR say NO to the TV and face not only the wrath of a four-year old (and her surprisingly creative attempts to act out passive aggressively in response to the fact that I have dared to assert my parental will upon the house) but also the challenge of entertaining them both by myself for the entire day.

Today: NO TELEVISION. (Grrrrr!!!) I made the decision in part because I knew I had to teach Jazzercise tonight, and I am pretty sure that once I leave for class, the TV goes on pretty quickly. And really, it's getting a little ridiculous. I have one of those children who can recite more movie lines than I can. Someday, a cute boy may find her ability to quote Shrek after burping appealing... ("Better out than in - that's what I always say!") BUT, wait, who am I kidding - that'll be the geeky boys who think quoting movies is cute - but I digress...

So, without the TV and with Ellie added to the mix, it's just a matter of time before Ellie is screaming like her fingernails have been forceably removed from her little hands because her big sister has (choose one: stolen her stuffed monkey, fed her breakfast to the dog, refused to kiss her on demand, turned her bedroom light off without permission, tried to give her an injection with a ballpoint pen, told her that she needs to go sit in the naughty corner.) While she cries, Maggie will either be standing a foot away from my face with her hands on her hips screaming, "Mama!!! Tell Ellie to BE QUIET!!!" or she will be hiding under a comforter/under the desk in the office/in her room with the door closed with a cough drop/my makeup/a package of Smarties from KinderCare because it was Lauren's birthday and it was in the treat bag her mother supplied to every pre-schooler in the building. Then, certainly, there will be magic markers (often Sharpies) - and probably tape, perhaps glue, and very likely scissors (probably not the kids' kind). Princess dresses will be donned, spilled upon, cried over - and on extra special days - peed or crapped upon. If said dress is soiled, there will be a complete and very emotionally draining (for all involved) breakdown when it is not available to wear at naptime. Lunch will not be cookies and candy canes, so I will again be vilified before naptime. Then, hopefully, we will eat something and Ellie will need a new diaper. The need for a diaper change gets us all into the back of the house, and then it's a relatively easy transition to books, songs, naps and my inner countdown until Jay comes home, we eat dinner, I go out for an hour or so of freedom at Jazzercise and return to a hefty glass of wine.

I do clearly remember days during the summer when I felt like a good mom on non-KinderCare days. On those days I know we had reading time, craft time, outdoor exercise time, nutritious lunches - even morning and afternoon snacks. EVEN, dare I say, field trips - anyone remember posts about blueberry picking or picnic lunches at Lewisville Park? Well, that stuff's in the crapper in December. I must go to bed now: I have just finished my wine in total silence after getting home from class to make sure Mags didn't hear me and call me into her room to tell her a story and snuggle (read: suck me into the great black hole of time and bedtime procrastination) before she goes to sleep. Trust me, I enjoy a snuggle as much as the next girl, but her father is completely capable of providing her with all of the story-reading and affection she needs to get off into Dreamland. Seriously.