Five Minutes In My Life

I'm sitting on the floor of our children's playroom.  Toys are strewn everywhere.  The volume is reaching a deafening level.  We are in a place of Chaotic Zen that can only be obtained in my household.

Everyone is happy, so I take out my laptop in the hopes of briefly connecting with the outside world.

Then, it happens...

In a matter of no less than 15 seconds, I am reading a blog post sent to me that contains a list of the "types of bitches" which has been composed by a third grader.  No lie.  You can find it here.

At the same time, my four year old princess-dress-wearing fashionista who is sporting a crooked, floppy dollar bin crown busts out in hysterical laughter and calls me a "baby head".  The outburst was totally unprompted.  The only thing my rational mind can begin to fathom is that she is beyond the point of exhaustion... well, that or she is showing symptoms of some type of neurological disorder... then again, it might be entirely possible that weirdness is a genetic trait.... hmmmm...  Regardless of the impetus, she has herself completely crumbled into a fit of hysterical laughter which has her baby sister petrified for her own life.  Or maybe her sanity.  Or both.  The volume has reached illegal levels.

And before I know what has happened, I am hit square on the knee cap by a golf ball.  My howling sends the three year old perpetrator into a full waterworks production.  His crying frightens the baby even more and she starts screaming at the top of her lungs.

The Princess finds this all hilarious and laughs even harder.

And as if it were not loud enough already, the dogs are so bothered - yes, the DOGS ARE SO BOTHERED - by the decibel levels in the house that they begin howling and barking.  Well, one is howling and the other is screeching.

I bet you wish you could hear it, don't you.

All I can do is look around and laugh.  Crying would be futile, and yelling would only serve to make my head throb more than it already is.

And apparently, my laughing was just enough to make my kids think that I may have lost my mind.

The oldest quieted down and whispered, "we better pick up the blocks." A hush fell over the playroom and the dogs climbed on top of the couch and peered at me from behind the pillows.

And within minutes, we had reclaimed the Chaotic Zen that is essential to our home.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama