You are a bad bad person

Disclaimer: i love these kids!

If we were to sit and discuss my own personal hell, it might be something like this: take four children, ages 7, 5, 4 and 3 to Jamestown on a Tuesday afternoon when the temperature is 92 degrees. I am not kidding. It sounds like absolute torture to me. And since, I am some kind of a masochist, that is exactly where I found myself. Today, a Tuesday, 92 degrees, 4 children. Sigh.

Now I think it is important to understand the psychology behind this situation. So I shall interview myself to offer a window to the soul, so to speak. The risk here, well it is concrete proof that I have tug of war conversations with myself.

Q: Why, Sharon, does this feel like your own personal hell?
A: Well to start, there is no way of getting out of the driveway without SOMEONE having to go potty. Of course we did the potty roll call just a few minutes previous to putting the car in reverse. Everyone was fine, no, don't have to go, no potty!, etc. But as soon as we are all buckled in it is pee pee time.

Q: Well that doesn't seem like a big deal.
A: Well that is not a question.

Q: Well then what?
A: Four children in a car on the way to Jamestown. That is a challenge to any adult's mental health. And if they say IT ISN'T, they are LYING. I personally choose not to pretend that I have it together, instead I am putting it out there. They shout, scream, yell at each other, somehow manage to get extendo-arms and hit each other from unreasonable distances. To top it off, the video that is meant to subdue them into a tv induced coma is a fail. It is instead putting me into a coma.

Q: Well that sounds a bit like complaining.
A: Again, not a question.

Q: So continue, what exactly is so frustrating about this experience for you? WHY do you have such a hard time handling it?
A: Okay, fair enough. Although I value and appreciate that the kids are running and playing and having fun, I am very self-involved and I would rather be home writing in my blog or working. THERE. I SAID IT. I AM A BAD BAD PERSON. I know they are having fun, but it is hot and sticky and I think I am getting sunburned and Holden just intentionally stepped in dog poop. Ella is on a continuous pout when it comes to the lemonade. She won't share it. She is taking the longest drink KNOWN TO MAN just so her compatriots cannot have any. It is hot, there are a few too many dragonflies who are doing flybys around my head. HOLDEN, don't hit anyone with that stick. HOLDEN. HOLDEN are you listening? You need to be a good listener to mommy! Does this kid speak English? Is his name even Holden? I have no idea. He doesn't seem to respond to either...
of course at this point my voice has just become background noise. I have become Charlie Brown's teacher. I HATE that teacher. As a matter of fact, I hate Charlie Brown. I have a feeling that is un-American on some level but I do. Well it is out there now.

Q: Um, that was a bit of a rant. Got yourself back together?
A: Sigh, yes.

Q: But don't you love the conversations you overhear among the kids? Aren't they priceless?
A: Oh you mean the uproarious laughter after Holden stepped in the dog poop? And me yelling at the top of my lungs, in Jamestown, HOLDEN DO NOT STEP IN DOG POOP! With this statement I have become ridiculous. If he has just stepped in dog poop, why do I feel the need to shout do not step in dog poop? I am now a loud, ugly American tourist, even though I live five miles from Jamestown.

Or the following:

Holden, did you step in dog poop on purpose?
Yes.
Why?
Because me like it.
But dog poop is dirty and smelly. It makes mommy upset that you did that!
But me just do this (demo of foot rubbing on dog poop).
Um, okay but I don't think that changes anything. (And I don't know what to say after that. And I think that he also thinks I am now ridiculous. I mean just listen to this conversation.)

Or this:
Holden, you need to listen to mommy, you are being too crazy. Did you just pinch your cousin?
Yes.
Why?
Me play pinching game.
You are not playing a pinching game.
Yes me is.
Please do not do that, you could hurt your cousin!
BURRRRPPP. (smells lovely, this corndog burp)
Sigh.
Scuse me. (cue toothy grin)

Exhale.

So, at the risk of sounding selfish, I just would really prefer NOT to go to Jamestown with four children. Or, funny enough, with two. Or even by myself...I know! Maybe the problem here is NOT me! Maybe it is Jamestown!

ya, right. ;)