What’s A Nice Girl Like Me Doing In A Dump Like This?

I realized today my house is just too small. Having the kids home and the weather not cooperating enough for them to play outside was a true test of love and patience.

On weekends, we are so busy going and doing, I've never really noticed a crammed feeling before.

Since I work from home and had a bunch of things to finish today, so I could begin my long holiday weekend, we were basically stuck in the house.

It seemed like every time one of us walked into the kitchen, we were walking right into someone coming out. The bathroom was no different. And I believe we used up all of our 2,000 flushes.

The odds were stacked up against me. I mean, there's more of them than there are of me. My darlings awoke at the butt crack of dawn and promptly began bickering.

“You guys, better knock it off. I don’t want to hear this crap first thing in the morning.”

I ordered Lane 2 to make me a pot of coffee. “But Mom, you quit drinking coffee.”

“I started again.”

“Why did you start drinking coffee again? Isn’t it bad for you.”

“Yes but so is murder.”

“I don’t get it.”

Lane 1 chimes in, a little older, not quite wiser and said, “If Mom doesn’t get her fix of coffee, she is going to murder you.”

“She is not. Shut up!”

“Don’t say that to your brother. Please go make me some coffee.”

“Are you really going to murder someone?”

The day was shaping up pretty poorly. After breakfast we made an attempt to go outside to fix my son's bike. He just had a flat tire and needed a new inner tube. Piece of cake, I thought. The three of us lasted six minutes before I declared, "It's freezing!" they agreed and we went back in the house.

I broke the news as gently as I could, "Today is clean your room day." They were not pleased by that statement. Their mouths began to form the word “but” as if they thought for one second their protest would even matter. But my finger was already pointing toward their bedrooms.

I got my work done in record time and was actually waiting for an argument to breakout. I was pleasantly surprised as I checked on them. Their rooms were looking good. Their TVs were off and they were really cleaning.

I sat at the kitchen table listening to the sound of silence. It was a beautiful sound.

And then the panic set in. How in the hell am I going to fit 18 people in this little house Friday? This thought should have occurred to me sooner, like the day I had to go buy more dinner plates because I only own five of my original eight, which are 16 years old. Or maybe it would have dawned on me when I had to buy one of the biggest turkeys at the farm. I could have gotten a hint when I came back from shopping for the dinner stuff and unloaded my car. My entire table was covered in grocery bags, as was my whole kitchen floor. Perhaps it would have come to my attention when I tried cramming all of the ingredients for the turkey, lasagna and all of the side dishes into my little refrigerator and cabinets.

If nothing else, it'll be interesting. I'm not one who entertains often (understatement) and didn't realize the expense, time and energy involved in one meal, not to mention the amount of space needed. Then a new panic set in. Where are they going to sit? I only have four kitchen chairs. Crap!

I tried working this all out in my head but thankfully the kids were done cleaning and helped to get my mind off of things. Maybe having them home isn't the worst thing in the world after all.

(Did I just jinx myself for tomorrow or what?!)