Monday, February 1, 2010

Do Not Disturb....Needing Some Quite Time?

We had a particularly looong weekend.  Cabin fever is at its highest, and tempers were flaring.  I'll admit (but please don't tell anyone!) that I've never been so happy to see a Monday morning.

I learned over the weekend that if I want to be sure that my children will talk to me when I'm older, apparently I will only need do one of the following:
  •  Call someone on the telephone while a child is in the house;
  •  Go to the bathroom (whether to use the facilities, take a shower, brush my teeth, anything!);
  •  Tell them I'm going to my bedroom to read a  book because I want to be alone and need some quiet time.
 I truly believe that when Hannah Montana, Spongebob, or the Waverly Place Wizards have my kids under their spell, I could stand in the middle of the living room, naked, with my hair on fire, and they would not even know I was there. Until a commercial.

You see, commercial breaks for my kids means that either they're going to be convinced that they will die (or be the least popular kid in the class) if they don't immediately own what ever is being sold them on that particular commercial, OR they use the commercial break time to stretch their muscles by hitting, kicking, tripping, flicking, or otherwise bothering which ever sibling is sitting nearest.

Once the commercial break is over, everyone tends to settle down to what appears to be a drug-induced stupor, watching the television. 

I've always told my children that if I ever ran away from home, they could find me at the local library. That's the quietest place I know.  Now I'm really, really wishing I hadn't told them! 


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