It's 7 pm and my two boys have fallen asleep. Earlier than usual i might add. But the whole day was an off schedule-wise anyway. I guess starting school two hours late threw the kids off their internal time clock as much as it did me.
It was a wild ride.
Once my 4-yr.-old Spencer got dropped off at his playschool shortly after 10am, all hell seem to break loose w/ his younger brother Cole. First there was the the coffee incident.
I turned my head for what seemed like two seconds in the kitchen only to find that he had dug his hand into the trashcan and pulled out the spent bag of coffee grounds (Millstone's medium roasted Foglifter) and spilled the tablespoon unconsciously left in the bag all over the floor. Then he managed to open the drawer that houses most of the kid videos and sprawled them across the family room floor. As I was cleaning up that mess, he stood in front of the cabinet full of snacks and pulled and pulled and pulled until the child-proof lock gave in like a Kryptonite lock on a bicycle messenger in Brooklyn: they promised me safety but I didn't get it. Then, my little monster did his best Denise The Menace impression when he stormed into his older brother's room and took his recently-made-out-of-an-old-baby-formula-can hand drum and preceeded to try and eat the rubber band that held the decorative cover slash drum skin over the plastic cap and tried to eat it. "Eat, Eat!" he said with a big smile on his face and slobber in the corner's of his mouth.
The crash & burn was coming and I could see it. Parents call this "the meltdown." So I dressed Cole up nice and warm and a little after noon we set off to pick up his bro from school at 1pm.
I knew he needed a nap and I needed some fresh air. Homie was crashed by the time I got to the end of the driveway. So I bought a daily paper to catch up on stats from the UNC basketball game I missed while at band practice the night before. I drove down the street to Spencer's school and picked him up.
"They had cupcakes for Edward's birthday," said his teacher. "So he may be a little jeeped up." This is good I thought as I had to make a quick run to the grocery store and didn't want Spencer to fall asleep on the way; but I needed to drive far enough that Cole got a good nap in. When I got to the Harris Teeter a short time later, the parking lot was mobbed with SWACOSS types. That's Southerners With A Chance Of Snow Syndrome folks. You know, the people who panic at the first sign of flurries and run out and buy milk, eggs and bottled water. Beer? Don't forget the beer.
These people do the same thing when hurricanes roll through.
So I end up holding sleepyhead Cole while I push Spencer around in a cart trying to get a few meager essentials. By the time I'm in the checkout line, both are crashed out. Spencer in the shopping cart and Cole on my shoulder. All I'm thinking is goddamn I wish they had one of those lil Starbucks coffee bars in the joint because I sure could use a lift. I want a shoulder to nap on myself.