Sunday, August 22, 2010

my parents have monster children.

A few weeks ago my mother called me as a last resort to babysit the kids while she and dad went with another couple to a concert. Jason and I agreed to help them out, thinking that watching them could be fun…
First of all, I am the oldest of ten. Myself and my three older siblings no longer live with my parents, however the younger six (ages 2-12) do. We were going to have all six of them for a period of time, and then two of them were supposed to spend the night elsewhere. (Rachel, 10, managed to stay home. I’m still not sure why, after she decided Jason and I were boring because we didn’t want to play games.)

Second, we had the task of taking them to a family cookout. It was hot and humid (oh Kentucky, how we love and hate you) and it was not a good day to have six monsters to keep up with, or be outside in general.
Third, my parents dog had puppies a couple months ago. So, we also had four puppies to keep on eye on and take care of.

Why did we agree to this???

Bella talking to the puppies about walking up the steps to the porch.

Sam loves the puppies.

Now, cute puppy pictures aside: The kids listened about 5% of the time we were there (with the exception of Isabella, 4, who was fantastic. Noah, 6, wasn’t too bad himself.) The baby lost his paci and refused to sleep, making the afternoon and evening lovely. Oh, and the fact that he is SPOILED ROTTEN and so adorable did not help (it was hard to be aggravated with that face.)

They were all over the place at the cookout, and it got to the point of just checking to make sure they were still around occasionally instead of trying to monitor all of them every second.

And bed time… what a nightmare —again with the exception of Bella who laid down and went to sleep when we got everyone in from the cookout. Play wrestling and going into the kitchen every two minutes while I was trying to get the baby down was enough to drive anyone crazy.

And my parents, who we expected to be home around midnight rolled in at 2am (3am our time.)
I know one thing is for sure: I will never, ever have six children. Not that I wanted a ton in the first place. And after last night we’re both at the point of: no children. Ever. It was so ridiculous. I do not have the patience for it, and my stress levels were completely through the roof. Or maybe, if we ever decided to have any we would just make sure they behaved a lot better.

Coming home to our quiet little apartment last night was the most wonderful sense of relief after all of that.

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