Tag Archives: babysitting

My Hero, Daffy Duck.

I was feeling pretty brave, you see… so brave in fact that I finally agreed to let my kids have a big sleepover with their 3 cousins at our house. No big deal, right.  People do this all the time.  My own grandmother had 6 of her own, how hard could this really be?  Heh heh heh…

So…armed with a minivan that will fit 5 kids and a “by the way” warning that a couple of them occasionally get car-sick, we started off with the 45 minute drive back to our house.  It was: too hot, too cold, the music is too loud, are we there yet?, we can’t hear the music, we want ROCK and ROLL!!!!!!!, Puff the Magic Dragon, No No No- ROCK and ROLL MOMMMY!!!!!!!  I blast them with some jazzy swing band Squirrel Nut Zippers- they cover their ears and scream, so I play it just a wee bit louder.  We’re off to a good start.  Are we there YET?  I just keep praying no one gets car-sick.

Here at home, all is well.  The cousins don’t visit very often, so they are pretty excited to check out all the toys, etc.  I’m a little worried because there is one little nephew in the mix, and well… we don’t have little boy stuff… but he seems pretty happy with the massive pile of my daughters’ dinosaur toys. (That’s probably weird that I don’t consider my girls’ dinosaur fascinations to be a boy-thing.)

So with a brief reminder that “Please, we don’t jump off the furniture, okay…” they are ready to go. I remind myself that I’m taking some vacation days next week, and will have time to re-organize and re-clean their bedrooms which I have spent most of my free time this summer organizing and cleaning… it’s all good…

Time to make dinner. This terrifies me.  Really, it’s been the thing I’ve dreaded the most about “The Sleepover” because dinner is not a pleasant occurence in this house.  My kids, normally peaceful, loving, kind and respectful children, become riotous anarchists at the dinner table.  Only at dinner.  Breakfast rocks.  Lunch is easy-peasy.  Dinner is the enemy (but the angst of dinner is really fodder for another post).  I’ve spent the week polling co-workers, grandparents, and my in-laws for dinner ideas.  The result: chicken nuggets, tater tots and corn on the cob… not exactly my idea of health and nutrition … and yet: dinner paradise.  I stand in awe as they all just eat, and eat. No complaints. No throwing food. No crying (Really?!?!? NO CRYING?!?!?). No deliberately spilling glasses of milk, or “accidentally” dropping dinner plates on the floor. I can’t believe my eyes, and I only have to tell my youngest to get back in her chair 3 times… wow.

A few more “please don’t jump off the furnitures” and the evening moves along with the  consistment rumble of a herd of elephants crossing the grasslands, leading the dog to have his longest fit of spastic barking to date. Finally, only a few hours past bedtime, they sleep.

And then they are up and having a screaming pillow fight by 6 a.m. I’ve been laying awake waiting for this.  Coffee. My husband leaves for work. Armed with more coffee, I gently repeat the “please don’t jump off the furniture” request a few more times, but realize they can’t even hear me.  I can’t even hear me.  Breakfast, this should help- until I realize that hubby (the one that just snuck out the door) bought 3 boxes of the most sugar-filled kids cereals he could find. Thanks, dear.

Enter Loony Tunes to the rescue.  It’s amazing to watch as Daffy Duck appears on the screen and they all stop moving.  The pillows drop to the floor. No one is screaming, tickling, jumping, bowling, tackling, or even talking.  Wow! Daffy Duck, huh? Hardly a peep out of them, this is amazing stuff! The classics to the rescue.

One last cup of coffee and we’re off … day 2 of The Sleepover continues.  I’m glad to know I’ve got Mr. Daffy Duck in my back pocket now…just in case!

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