Other than starting off this morning, tired from Liam's timely decision to stop sleeping through the night (again), and not having time to shower, things started off pretty well. I got my housework done early. I caught an episode of Downton Abbey. I had a really nice lunch with the littles. My day ended with Bridget shouting something along the lines of "You just don't care about my feelings, do you?" and Dominic and I having to tell Reagan to give his brand spanking new nunchucks back to which ever friend gave them to him.
What the what? Where do these days go wrong?
Ciaran is screamy tonight, Piper is fighting with her sister about very nearly everything, and I am thoroughly touched out. Sounds like it's time for a pain reliever with PM on the bottle, or maybe a nice glass of wine.
Seriously though, Reagan came home from his friend's house this afternoon with a set of wooden nunchucks. And I keep asking myself, who gives a sixteen year old with a house full of little siblings, a set of nunchucks? Really, these are teenagers, so I'm pretty sure no such logic applied. When Dominic and I informed Reagan that he couldn't keep them, the words "What could go wrong?" actually came out of his mouth. Really? Let me count the things that could go wrong!
Of course, I immediately Googled it, which led to him stomping off to his room, thoroughly annoyed with the both of us. But, hey, we're not looking for a prize for coolest parents (not that we wouldn't give a kick ass acceptance speech). We'd settle for keeping them all alive, and maybe not allowing them weapons that can further their destruction. Crazy, I know.
Tomorrow is another day, and maybe it will come with less of a desire to send my kids to their rooms for a year. I promise I will go look at them when they're all sleeping, though. On nights like these, seeing them sleeping sweetly is what makes me think I can do it again tomorrow.
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