Natalie Whatley

I had a great article all planned out in my head for this week, but… “MOM! There’s something that feels like Jell-O all over the carpet upstairs!” Excuse me. (Glancing at the clock and noting that it’s 2:06. I don’t wish to be rude, and I promise not to leave you sitting alone for long.)

Mystery solved. The Jell-O-like substance is Colgate MaxFresh. The mini breath strips are the tell-tale sign. Why does my oldest child walk around upstairs while brushing his teeth? I’ve wiped up the trail (only because he’s not home) so the dog doesn’t spread it further, or roll in it. Darn it, had I been thinking clearly, minty fresh would have been a vast improvement over Scooter’s current scent. I must learn not to act so impulsively.  Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I had something …phone is ringing, please excuse me again.

That was a call for my middle child. I’ve recently considered hiring a receptionist to handle all the incoming calls, and additions/deletions to my children’s social calendars. What I was getting at…someone is knocking on the door. Excuse me. 

Writing myself a note – daughter is going to the neighbor’s house to play. Yes, I may forget where she is. I’m finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with them now that they’re all old enough to be out of my direct line of sight. Phone is ringing again. Excuse me.

Oldest is leaving Chili’s, going to Blockbuster, and then to a friend’s. Since I’m feeling particularly testy today, I did inquire about the toothpaste trail into his brother’s room. He has no idea how that happened. My suspicions have been confirmed – he wasn’t listening when I told him not to walk around outside the bathroom while brushing because…someone coming in the front door. I’ll be right back.

Daughter has been invited to go swimming, and needs to change into her swimsuit.  As luck would have it, her brother, the middle child, can tag along. My heart is about to beat out of my chest.  I’m on the verge of having some peace and quiet, and Jeff will be home by the time they all return.  The euphoria is almost too much. Phone again, I do apologize.  Excuse me.

Jeff’s been invited to play golf, and will be late. Sigh. I’m a big girl. I just need a few minutes to re-focus and get myself together. Argh! Doorbell, and I swear it sounds like someone tried to just walk right in before ringing. I’m terribly sorry that we continue to be interrupted. Excuse me.

I opened the door to “No one wants to play with me!” Dripping wet, the middle child started his tirade on how his sister absolutely ruins his life.

The veins in my temples are throbbing, and my vision is blurring. Glancing at the clock, I head for the bottle of Advil, thinking a bottle of something else might be more suitable. (To smash upside my head in hopes of an unconscious state, of course.) It’s 2:37. I can take two more Advil in four hours, or is it four more in two hours? I don’t know. I can’t hear myself think…phone is ringing, excuse me.  

© 2008 Natalie Whatley