Friday, March 22, 2013

Zookeeper Poppins Week

On Tuesday I felt like Mary Poppins; the kids were obedient, musical, cooperative and participated in every creative plan I presented. We built a fort, played with snow inside, dyed eggs and played fizzy fun by dripping the colored vinegar onto baking soda. I'm so cool, right?

Then Wednesday, N told me I was the zookeeper. I suppose they were playing zoo. And I thought that was spot on because I felt like I was keeping 3 wild animals caged in my house against their will. Not to mention I locked us OUT of said house as well as broke the passenger side view mirror backing out of the detached garage which i blame on the lock out. (Because if it had been an attached garage, we would not have been locked out, of course!) Oh well, the animals didn't want to go back into the enclosure anyhow! But I did manage to make make and feed green eggs so it wasn't a complete loss!

Yesterday the twins had preschool Praise God and I thought I'd gotten my act together because they both had appropriate letter of the week show and tell: vans for "V," although their first suggestion was volcano. Brilliant, but how to pack a volcano in the backpack? However, as the principal reminded N that we keep our hands to ourselves at school because of course he was tackling M has they galloped down the hall, I saw a 4th grader dressed in PJ's and remembered it was PJ and reading day. They were supposed to wear PJ's, bring blankets and books to read with their 4th grade buddies. (Sigh) then I spent part of the morning rotating the play room toys in hopes of interesting them in their dedicated play area rather than the incessant "Can we watch Mighty Machines?" That I've been hearing all week. Marginal success at best.

Today is Friday. I feel like some kind of terrible headmistress or something, making my kids sit at the table to finish eating their breakfast: homemade pumpkin chocolate chip muffins and dyed hard boiled eggs (seriously, kids, this is a great breakfast!) making them play together and endure the consequences of stuffing the tiny sponge ostrich into the giant cement mixer despite my telling them I would not rescue any more sponge animals from this horrific death.

Do Mary Poppins, zookeepers and head mistresses get weekends off?

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