I try to take my shower before the kids get up. But now that Lilly is waking up at 5 am, that is really hard to do. I have tried keeping her locked in the bathroom with me so she won't go wake up her brothers, which she thinks is her sole reason for living at 5 am. But then all she wants to do is stick her hand in the toilet or pound on the door to get out. And go wake up her brothers.
I can't win.
So sometimes, more often than I'd like, I have to take a shower later, when they are all awake. I have some strategies. I leave the door open to hear screaming. I have Super Mommy hearing, so if it is suddenly quiet, I am onto that too. Quiet means trouble. Trouble like this:
"Ummm, boys, why is there toilet paper all over the floor of your bedroom?"
"Oh, we were just making a sail boat."
"Out of toilet paper?"
"Moooom, those were the sails."
"And why are the sails now torn to shreds all over the floor?"
"Because we tied them to the bottom bunk and Lilly tore them all off."
I can't win. Wait, did I say that already?
Actually, I take full responsibility for this. Because ONE time I let William do this, I guess that means full toilet paper privileges for all time. Without asking. Duh? How could I not have known this?
And really, I don't even mind an occasional toilet paper roll casualty, or a ball of string. Do you know how much quiet time I can get out of a ball of string? 45 minutes at least. One ball of string = a giant web under the dining room table and a boy or 2 tied up in that web, having the time of their lives.
It drives Aaron a little batty. He just doesn't understand. "You let them do this?" he asks me incredulously. Let me tell you, there are times when I might let them play with chainsaws if it would buy me 30 minutes of quiet.
But...that might get me into trouble.
See, I told you, I can't win.