The above title took me about five minutes to peck out with my one available hand. The other hand is currently occupied holding a sleeping baby.
I was forced to stop typing three separate times; once to remind the other two children that the baby’s asleep and if they wake him up they may not see tomorrow, once to pretend to eat a toy car that my three-year old insisted was a piece of pie and once, and let me remind you I only have one hand, to help my seven-year old put his “spy watch”.
I remind my seven-year old that spies are quiet and the baby is asleep. He’s tells me about how ninjas are also quiet and how he can be a ninja spy or a spy ninja and ninjas were very quiet like spies and when will his brother be done watching his cartoons because he wants to play a game on the Wii and he wishes it wasn’t too hot for the playground today because he wants to play outside but it’s too hot… He has ADD. He isn’t medicated.
My three-old just informed his unmedicated older brother that he was done with cartoons and he can play a game now if he wants. As his older brother picks a game the three-year old (who from here on out will be refered to as “the middle child” or “demon spawn”) screams at the top of his lungs because “NO, NOT THAT GAME!”. He physically attacks his older brother.
Still not wanting to wake-up the sleeping baby in my arms, I try to get control of the situation with the most menacing whisper I can muster. It goes unheard. I try again. The baby is twitching. “Boy’s!” A little louder. Still it goes unheard or unheeded.
“STOP IT! THE BABY IS SLEEPING!,” I shout. Demon spawn and the older one stop and look at me. So does the baby.