Friday, February 25, 2011

On Chaos

You see the two cute kids - I see all that shit on the counter. 
Chaos overwhelms me.

Chaos overwhelms my home, my life, my house, my job and my car. I feel like I am living in a constant state of upheaval, always waiting for the next thing to happen.

I have order within my chaos: I know where to find clean socks and underwear when we need them, I know where I most likely hid a crochet needle or the salt, I know where most things in my house are, but, the chaotic, haphazard, and (let's just admit it) dirty home that I live in overwhelms me. Housework is not one of my stronger suits, not only because I feel like it is a never ending battle, but because I am the only one that is battling it.

I long for order, organization, direction and control. And yet, I live with a 3 year old. She's a strange roommate, but she makes me smile, even though she has yet to chip in on the bills or pay me rent.

Until recently our living arrangement worked well. People would ooh and ahh at the smart, cute, funny baby and I would put up with vomit and dirty diapers. Until recently.

We have now reached the stage of "3-Year-Olds-That-Can-Not-Sit-Still-Lest-They-Should-Fall-Asleep-and-Miss-Something". I call it Hell. Or at least Earth's closest resemblance to Hell.

Case in point:
"Time for Bed, Z."

"Okay, Mom"

(Perform all of the bedtime rituals: pajamas, read a story, snuggle her down into her bed, say prayers for everything within eyesite (oh, and Grandma and G-Daddy, too), discuss what fun things she has planned for tomorrow, turn off light)

Walk out of room, pick up crochet work, do approximately 2 stitches, notice that child's bedroom light is on.

Walk back to child's room, place child back in her bed, take away whatever toy or book (or scissors) she is trying to hide under pillow. Turn light back off, flash The Look one last time.

Sit back down, do 2 more stitches, hear child's imaginary play voices in bedroom, but light is still off, figure she is just talking herself to sleep.

Get through a row of crochet, feel someone staring at you...

"Momma, I need to use the bathroom..."

"You should go then." (She uses the bathroom all by herself, all day, but at night walking the 5 steps to me, or the 5 steps to the bathroom seems to be a hard decision.)

Moments later, notice that someone is trying to sit down next to you.

"What are you doing, you are supposed to be in bed."

"But, (fake cough)I had (fake cough)an idea (clears throat)..." This is how I know that she is A) stalling for time to come up with an idea, and B) about to ask or propose something that she knows I will say "no" to.

"What is your idea?"

(voice drops to an almost inaudible squeak)"I was thinking... I could sleep... next to you on the couch while you watch a movie?"

Pick up child, carry her back to her bed, where she commences to finally go to sleep.

(after talking, playing, flipping through about six books, jumping off of the bed onto the floor, running across floor to stand on chair, jumping off of chair onto the floor, running between the bathroom door and her door 3 times in rapid sneaky succession)

At 12:30, the noises stop, the movement stops, I step into her room and scoop her from the floor, the closet, the chair, the "hiding" spot between the chair and the wall and place her back in her bed, snuggle her under the covers, kiss her forehead and whisper, "I love you".

Coming back to my orginal point, I live in a dirty, loud, imaginative, loud, playful, loud world where people (albeit small people) randomly jump off of furniture, run quickly around sharp corners screaming "BOO", and there is quite possibly someone either wearing a shirt and no underwear or underwear and nothing else rolling around on the floor.

I am severely sleep-deprived.

Everything is in chaos. We are about to add more chaos to the mix (more on that later, and, no, we are not having another kid - at least not right away).

Chaos overwhelms me, but at least I pretend like I know how to handle it.

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