Take my kids, please!

Maybe I am the odd one out here, but I don't have a babysitter.

Well, I do. She is my MIL. She accepts payment in the form of groceries or gas. She doesn't charge by the hour. I know that if the house was on fire, she will get my kids out if it kills her.

That comforts me.

Part of me wonders what it would be like to have a local teen on call. It might be more convenient. It might be easier to slip out of the house for quick jaunts. Then again, I have no clue what one would charge.

I was thinking of this because of the recent three day weekend for the kids. Right after Christmas break. Now, Linus only has school two days a week, so losing one of those days hurts. Alot.

Linus is clingy. He latches on like a leech and doesn't let go until you have nothing left. I love the boy, don't get me wrong. It is just hard to keep up with. Even Tater grows weary of it. He is very much my child. We require moments alone for quiet introspection and to just be. Linus does not allow that for either of us.

Sunday found me ready to scream early in the morning. The kids woke up early and were squabbling. I knew I had to separate them or I would lose my mind. Fortunately, my grandma was willing to take Tater for the night.

It is amazing when you divide and conquer.

My kids behave under certain circumstances. 1) They are not together or 2) I am not present. Otherwise it is anyone's guess, but a blue moon might be involved.

Take their newest game, for example. It is called "Spy." It means they skulk around the house whispering, trying to sneak up on me. Sometimes it is a quiet game, and that I enjoy. But if you ignore the little spies, they then up the ante and will try to whack your bottom while you cook or equally annoying behavior.

They only know they have "won" when either I start yelling at them to go play or the vein in forehead starts throbbing dangerously. And since the game yanks my chain so effectively, it is a household favorite now, right up there with "climb on the furniture" or "paint the bathroom in toothpaste." It gets to the point where I am ready to make a sign that says "Free to Good Home" and I ain't talking about the kittens.

I keep telling myself that winter will end eventually. Spring will come and they can play outside without me worrying about them losing toes or ears. Linus will start kindergarten and be too tired to wreak his normal levels of havoc.

Until then, you will be able to find me in the basement, sorting laundry. Until they find me.