Dinner

Players:

DH: Darling Husband
M: Darling Son #1 age 9 1/2
G: Darling Son #2 age 7 and 5/6
S: Darling Son #3 age 18 months
C: Darling Son #4 age 18 months
Me/narrator

Curtain opens in the kitchen. DH is gone for the night and I have recently discovered that my refrigerator age: 2 years, is not working. I discovered this when I opened the freezer to find a container full of water where ice used to be. G had taken S and C out back to play which was going well. Believing that it was only the freezer that was afflicted, I emptied it and carried everything down to the basement freezer and then cleaned all of the melted ice cream out of the bottom of the freezer. This all ends at approximately 6pm.

Time to make dinner. G, S and C enter stage left. S and C are fussing and G is talking about getting a snack because he's hungry and is incredulous at the suggestion that he wait because I'm about to make dinner. I proceed to make dinner amidst the rotating fussing, screaming and crying all while trying to placate the noisemakers with the food that I had already prepared without much success. S wants to be held so I am now preparing dinner with one hand while C proceeds to climb up onto the kitchen table to see what he can do to "help" from there.

Time to eat the aforementioned dinner. I take C off the table and discover that his legs are now covered in what used to be raspberries but now look like fake blood running down his legs. Because I still have S in the other hand and he is refusing to be put into his high chair, I take C with the other hand and maneuver him into his chair. I then take a chunk of cheese and use it to bribe S to get him into his chair. In the middle of all of this, G takes the opportunity to ask if he and M can split a can of root beer. I say yes. Feeling lucky, he asks if they can each have their own. I say no. He goes downstairs to retrieve the can of root beer while M gets out glasses. He pours, G chooses. They measure carefully. After getting S and C into their chairs, I continue to get dinner onto the table while intermittently tossing food onto high chair trays for the babes to systematically devour. I finally sit down to eat and C decides that he must have a drink of my N/A beer right now or the world might just possibly end. I proceed to be the worst mother on earth and say no while trying to distract him with a nice drink of water. It's not working. He tries again. I try again. Still not working. He proceeds to say "please?" through tears. I still don't budge. Cue screaming.

Mid dinner break. C continues the high pitched screaming and I determine that he is done eating and tired because he took a 1 hour nap instead of a 2 hour nap and had a restless night last night. I'm brilliant. I clean him up and go to get his pajamas on. I open the diaper to find a pile of pea gravel. Nice. Diaper changed, jammies on. We go upstairs for bed. A few minutes later, he's out. I go back downstairs to continue my now cold dinner and warm beer to discover that M has been very helpful and gotten S cleaned up and out of his chair and is starting to clean the kitchen. I finish my dinner and then hear yelling coming from the back yard.

Back yard brawl. I go out back to see G crying, shaking his fist and yelling at neighbor kid who has come back to play. It's over Bakugan and is highly volatile. I call them together and assess the situation brilliantly explaining that neither hitting nor calling names are an effective way to communicate and play. I send M in to find S who is now taking apart the school room. Meanwhile, a scream is heard from the upstairs window. Apparently, it was a nap.

Bedtime blues. I go inside to convince C that it wasn't a nap, this is indeed bedtime. All is going well and his eyes are beginning to close when the bedroom door bangs open and in lumbers S. This is no longer going well. I set C in the bed and run downstairs to put S in his pajamas. More rocks in the diaper. DH calls to check in and as I'm unloading our evening on him, he has the nerve to tell me I'm being crabby which results in me yelling "I'm having a hell night!" and hanging up. He's so wrong. I take S and run back upstairs to the distraught C. We all climb into bed to nurse and cuddle but after 15 minutes, it becomes apparent that this is not going to lead to sleep for anyone. I climb out of bed and turn on a video so I can sneak downstairs for a few minutes. I'm nearly done cleaning the kitchen when DH enters ready to help. Apparently my message was clear and I decide that he no longer needs to sleep on the couch tonight as I had very rationally determined to be appropriate after the phone call. He takes on the emptying of the broken refrigerator which is rapidly heating up while I continue cleaning the kitchen. This is all finished just as the video upstairs ends and the natives become restless.

Bedtime take 3? I go upstairs to once again try for sleep and once again, it's not happening. DH comes in and takes S while I work on C. I hear DH leave the bedroom after a few short minutes as S has fallen asleep and I see C's eyes close so I dare to lay him down. 1 second later, he's up and the screaming ensues. He's apparently not tired due to the mid dinner nap.

Finally, after cuddle time with daddy and playtime with G, he's really ready for bed. I take him upstairs and as he's falling asleep for real, I can't help but think how blessed I am to have 4 beautiful, healthy children and a wonderful, supportive husband. I am so grateful.