this is my life... well this was my life. thankfully it was temporary

Its been a rough couple of weeks.  I had the flu.  It was bad. and long. I slept. a lot.

My kids survived because I locked the doors left a bunch of crackers and water out on the dining room table and gave them an all access pass to watch TV.

I slept for an entire weekend.  That is not an exaggeration. My husband thought it would be cute to take a picture of me sleeping.  Its not cute.

 (I can't believe I posted that.)

The kids wore the same clothes (or lack of clothes) for a few days

The laundry piled up.

My husband wants to name the laundry pile because "something that large deserves a name"

I pointed out it was only so large because it was in a pile on the floor instead of in the laundry basket, which was still full with the clean laundry from Friday.

He pointed out that clean laundry was from the Friday two weeks ago. Touche.

I refuse to post a picture of the laundry pile (aka Mount Kilimanjaro)

use your imagination.

The kids have started saying 'that's whack' thanks to their father being the only non-delirious adult in the house.

me: Please clean up your toys.
the boys:  Mom, that's whack.

The chickens have learned they can fly over the fence.

Perhaps they overheard my telling the neighbor that the fence was only a "suggestion of boundaries" when he asked me how we got them to stay in there.

Loose chickens = me wandering the yard in my pajamas shooing chickens.

I see my neighbors staring but when I give them a wave they suddenly turn the other way and are busy tending to their yard. car. shoes.

I'm pretty sure they all think I'm either on crack or on a psychotic break.

This illness all started after I did a major spring fall cleaning.  With the cool weather we turned the ceiling fans off for the first time in months.

That's when I noticed the two inches of dust on the ceiling fans. Which led to a four hour cleaning binge of all dust covered surfaces. Which led to a chest cold, then bronchitis and the flu.

There is a lesson here.

Cleaning is bad for your health.

Bad health leads to household chaos.

There is so much more ridiculousness that has happened these past two weeks but I was medicated so I'm not sure I could accurately recall it.

Apparently the Universe decided I needed a little something to make me laugh.  So when the chickens escaped again this morning and a squirrel moved in on the coop (it happens often) I closed the coop door and declared we now had a pet squirrel.

The squirrel, so excited to be our new pet and wanting to show off its amazing pet tricks, started flying from wall to wall, climbing the mesh walls in frenzied circles, and running around bouncing off everything.

Very chaotic.

I did not need any additional chaos so I opened the door and the squirrel reluctantly left. Well reluctantly left in a mad dash.  I can only assume it was his last attempt at trying to impress us with his awesome pet potential.

I did get video.  Though I was too awestruck by him walking on the walls to remember I had my cell phone in hand.  That was some mad squirrel skills.  My apologies that you will never see it.  But lucky you I have one minute + of our almost-pet squirrel to share with you... enjoy

 and you're welcome. :)

And for anyone concerned: I'm feeling better, the boys have had vegetables, protein, and dairy added back in to their diets, the laundry is being tackled.  However, the boys still say that's whack and the chickens still escape daily.

(shhhhhhh.....)

I'm hiding. Seriously.

I'm hiding from this:

I told the boys I was going downstairs to do laundry.  They don't like to help with laundry.  They are thankfully unaware that Monday is laundry day and today is not Monday.
***yes, I know the day you're reading this is Monday but this happened on Sunday.  This blog is not always in real time ;)

I am downstairs. Not doing laundry. I'm Hiding. It's come to this.

He is in rare form today.  Strike that.  It isn't exactly 'rare form' these days.  Its the norm.

A simple reminder to 'say please' somehow manages to turn in to an hour long showdown.  His little fists will beat anything within range.  His legs.  The chair. Me.  Hitting is not allowed, but if when it happens it requires an apology in this house. Apparently he doesn't take requests.

I can see him struggling inside.  Consequences of his actions that he'll face versus his need to be in control.  I'm struggling too.  Teach him right from wrong and be mentally exhausted or turn a blind eye and let him get away with it all.

His big brother is watching.  He knows the rules.  He already sees that his little brother gets certain advantages (like being carried more often, shorter time-outs).  He's been on the losing side of his little brother's hitting and biting attacks.  I have to stay strong and ride this tantrum out.

I am surprisingly calm through his tantrums.  I'm sure the neighbors hear his high-pitched screams and think I'm beating him.  I'm not. Hitting is not allowed.

But now I'm exhausted.  And I fear any single wrong word will set him off again.

I'm choosing not to battle by way of avoidance.

I'm hiding.

Shhhhhhh....

Here's a little ode to the temper tantrum (and a little reminder to myself that even the crankiest little monkey just needs a little love)