It is 4:48 a.m.
This is generally not a time on the clock I usually see. At least not for any good reason. But, it appears in a moment of pure insanity a few weeks ago, I agreed to let Little Sunshine have a slumber party for her birthday.
I mean, really, how hard could it be? Girls are the gentler sex. They are predispositioned to be dainty and clean and genteel. They are sweet and quiet. LIES, I TELL YOU, LIES!
Let me back up a little bit. In the aforementioned moment of insanity, I apparently also agreed to assist El Hubbo with a brisket/pork butt smoke. So, on Thursday night we smoked pheasants, german sausage, ears of corn, 12 briskets and 12 pork butts. This is an all-night process, that admittedly I work only until midnight. El Hubbo stays up all night. I get up and get him coffee and breakfast and resume assistant duties until everything is done, packaged, delivered, cleaned up. So, this process began about 5:00 on Thursday and went until 6:30 p.m. on Friday.
At 6:30 p.m. on Friday, the girls began arriving. Squealing, screaming, extremely active girls. It looked like a bunch of jot dots bouncing off the walls. The only request Little Sunshine had was that I make homemade pizza. I begged to be allowed to drive to Dominos to pick up pizzas. The despot would not allow it.
I had laid out on Wednesday (anticipating I may be a bit tired come Friday) snacks, drinks, fruit, etc. Emma had spent Friday cleaning up and pulling out board games and planning her entertainment. At 6:35 the "When are we eating?", "I'm hungry" statements began. So, I started making pizzas. Three homemade pizzas later, my kitchen was wrecked and my dining room table was piled with paper plates.
I took a quick headcount and gave the number to El Hubbo so that we could tag team on wellness checks. At 6:45 p.m. he told me was going to our bedroom and good luck. Number One Son had already moved everything he considered essential for survival and taken refuge in our room.
At 7:00 p.m. I started wondering if their was a noise ordinance for our neighborhood that I may be in violation of. Granted we live in the middle of cotton fields, but I was pretty sure the decibel levels were high enough to get the attention of the police in at least three local cities. At 7:05 p.m., I took some medicine for the headache that was building.
Between 7:06 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. I refereed at least 4,167 disagreements. It was difficult to keep track of who hated who and who was best friends at what point in time. At 10:00 p.m. I informed the girls that I was headed to my room, please keep it down (ha, ha, ha) and to send Emma back if they needed anything. "Goodnight, Mrs. Martinez!" they said in unison.
At 10:05 p.m. I was summoned for an important emergency. One had fallen and was hurt badly! I hobbled to the other side of the house, prepared to do field stitches, CPR, whatever. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I burst into the scene of the accident to find one girl down, tears rolling, gripping her leg. I dropped to my knees and started the evaluation. No blood. No swelling. No limbs at odd angles. Alrighty. Will a hug help? Yes? Ok, here you go. All better? I guess she was as she had rebounded and was back chasing and screaming with the rest of them. I then spent the better part of three minutes trying to figure out how I was going to get myself up off the floor.
I return to my bedroom to find El Hubbo, Number One Son and Doc Holiday (my traitorous pup) all asleep on the bed. Still waiting of the adrenaline levels to drop, I muscled my way into the bed. I fell asleep somehow somewhere around 11:00 p.m. I guess at this point I had grown immune to the noise. Or possibly had become deaf.
At 11:05 p.m. El Hubbo wakes up and decides he is thirsty. He returns to the bedroom and says, don't go in there mama. Just. don't. I ask if they are all still here, and he said, "yes, I came up with the right number. I think." That's reassuring.
A little after midnight, I am once again summoned for a major emergency. Someone had fallen and was hurt badly! My reaction times were severely impaired by the lack of sleep, but I stumbled to the scene. As seven different stories flew at me, I managed to ascertain that the victim of the accident had fallen, apparently hit the brick on the fireplace with her knee, and was quite positive the knee was about to fall off. I asked to see as I had never seen a knee fall off. It was, fortunately, still attached. No blood. Ok, will an ice pack help? Yes? Ok, let me make you one. As I begin to prepare said icepack, I realize I am not alone in the kitchen. And I see arms and heads everywhere. And cries of "are there any more snacks?" "Got anything to eat?" I hear the freezer door open. I shoo them all out.
The icepack gets applied to the knee. I think it was the right one, anyway. The victim was wiggley and obviously well down the road to recovery. I look around at my living room and kitchen. I sigh heavily. Cups, plates, goldfish cracker bags, orange peels, whipped cream from the Pieface game. Markers, game pieces, half-drank bottles of Powerade, water, and Big Red. Stuff I couldn't identify. Floors sticky. Oh. My. Goodness. It looked like a tornado had gone through. Or perhaps we had taken up residence in a landfill.
I thought it was time to just go back to bed and deal with it tomorrow. Or later today as the fact may be.
The following few hours I dozed and was periodically awakened by singing, squealing, and the sounds of girls having fun.
At 4:00 a.m., they were still going strong. I couldn't take it anymore. I head to the living room. One was passed out in the floor. The others were having a pillow fight over and around her. Oy. Wishing to avoid major emergency 5,395, I firmly said, "Alright girls, time for a movie." There was much debate over what it would be, but finally I settled it and said, "Sing, you shall watch Sing. Get still, grab a blanket, everyone quiet!" I turned out all but one light, and started the movie.
I head back to my bedroom At 4:05 a.m. I return as I heard voices escalating in disagreement. I bark "Quiet!" and they all hush. I stand there and watch as by 4:10 a.m. all but one was out. And when I say out, I mean mouth hanging open, snoring, a train through the room will not awaken out.
Unfortunately, I am now awake at this point. So, I grab a trash bag. And I spent 48 minutes picking up trash, scrubbing tables and counters, sweeping up popcorn. I decided mopping the floors could wait, and perhaps that would be the penance El Hubbo would pay later for leaving me without backup.
But, right before I sat down to report on the goings on, I did take a look at that room full of sleeping girls and smile and shake my head. Everything can be cleaned and mostly restored to it's almost original condition. It's a small price to pay for what will hopefully be a good memory for all of them.
It's now 5:32 a.m. In a couple hours, I'll start breakfast. Guess I'll go watch the end of the movie until then.
This is generally not a time on the clock I usually see. At least not for any good reason. But, it appears in a moment of pure insanity a few weeks ago, I agreed to let Little Sunshine have a slumber party for her birthday.
I mean, really, how hard could it be? Girls are the gentler sex. They are predispositioned to be dainty and clean and genteel. They are sweet and quiet. LIES, I TELL YOU, LIES!
Let me back up a little bit. In the aforementioned moment of insanity, I apparently also agreed to assist El Hubbo with a brisket/pork butt smoke. So, on Thursday night we smoked pheasants, german sausage, ears of corn, 12 briskets and 12 pork butts. This is an all-night process, that admittedly I work only until midnight. El Hubbo stays up all night. I get up and get him coffee and breakfast and resume assistant duties until everything is done, packaged, delivered, cleaned up. So, this process began about 5:00 on Thursday and went until 6:30 p.m. on Friday.
At 6:30 p.m. on Friday, the girls began arriving. Squealing, screaming, extremely active girls. It looked like a bunch of jot dots bouncing off the walls. The only request Little Sunshine had was that I make homemade pizza. I begged to be allowed to drive to Dominos to pick up pizzas. The despot would not allow it.
I had laid out on Wednesday (anticipating I may be a bit tired come Friday) snacks, drinks, fruit, etc. Emma had spent Friday cleaning up and pulling out board games and planning her entertainment. At 6:35 the "When are we eating?", "I'm hungry" statements began. So, I started making pizzas. Three homemade pizzas later, my kitchen was wrecked and my dining room table was piled with paper plates.
I took a quick headcount and gave the number to El Hubbo so that we could tag team on wellness checks. At 6:45 p.m. he told me was going to our bedroom and good luck. Number One Son had already moved everything he considered essential for survival and taken refuge in our room.
At 7:00 p.m. I started wondering if their was a noise ordinance for our neighborhood that I may be in violation of. Granted we live in the middle of cotton fields, but I was pretty sure the decibel levels were high enough to get the attention of the police in at least three local cities. At 7:05 p.m., I took some medicine for the headache that was building.
Between 7:06 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. I refereed at least 4,167 disagreements. It was difficult to keep track of who hated who and who was best friends at what point in time. At 10:00 p.m. I informed the girls that I was headed to my room, please keep it down (ha, ha, ha) and to send Emma back if they needed anything. "Goodnight, Mrs. Martinez!" they said in unison.
At 10:05 p.m. I was summoned for an important emergency. One had fallen and was hurt badly! I hobbled to the other side of the house, prepared to do field stitches, CPR, whatever. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I burst into the scene of the accident to find one girl down, tears rolling, gripping her leg. I dropped to my knees and started the evaluation. No blood. No swelling. No limbs at odd angles. Alrighty. Will a hug help? Yes? Ok, here you go. All better? I guess she was as she had rebounded and was back chasing and screaming with the rest of them. I then spent the better part of three minutes trying to figure out how I was going to get myself up off the floor.
I return to my bedroom to find El Hubbo, Number One Son and Doc Holiday (my traitorous pup) all asleep on the bed. Still waiting of the adrenaline levels to drop, I muscled my way into the bed. I fell asleep somehow somewhere around 11:00 p.m. I guess at this point I had grown immune to the noise. Or possibly had become deaf.
At 11:05 p.m. El Hubbo wakes up and decides he is thirsty. He returns to the bedroom and says, don't go in there mama. Just. don't. I ask if they are all still here, and he said, "yes, I came up with the right number. I think." That's reassuring.
A little after midnight, I am once again summoned for a major emergency. Someone had fallen and was hurt badly! My reaction times were severely impaired by the lack of sleep, but I stumbled to the scene. As seven different stories flew at me, I managed to ascertain that the victim of the accident had fallen, apparently hit the brick on the fireplace with her knee, and was quite positive the knee was about to fall off. I asked to see as I had never seen a knee fall off. It was, fortunately, still attached. No blood. Ok, will an ice pack help? Yes? Ok, let me make you one. As I begin to prepare said icepack, I realize I am not alone in the kitchen. And I see arms and heads everywhere. And cries of "are there any more snacks?" "Got anything to eat?" I hear the freezer door open. I shoo them all out.
The icepack gets applied to the knee. I think it was the right one, anyway. The victim was wiggley and obviously well down the road to recovery. I look around at my living room and kitchen. I sigh heavily. Cups, plates, goldfish cracker bags, orange peels, whipped cream from the Pieface game. Markers, game pieces, half-drank bottles of Powerade, water, and Big Red. Stuff I couldn't identify. Floors sticky. Oh. My. Goodness. It looked like a tornado had gone through. Or perhaps we had taken up residence in a landfill.
I thought it was time to just go back to bed and deal with it tomorrow. Or later today as the fact may be.
The following few hours I dozed and was periodically awakened by singing, squealing, and the sounds of girls having fun.
At 4:00 a.m., they were still going strong. I couldn't take it anymore. I head to the living room. One was passed out in the floor. The others were having a pillow fight over and around her. Oy. Wishing to avoid major emergency 5,395, I firmly said, "Alright girls, time for a movie." There was much debate over what it would be, but finally I settled it and said, "Sing, you shall watch Sing. Get still, grab a blanket, everyone quiet!" I turned out all but one light, and started the movie.
I head back to my bedroom At 4:05 a.m. I return as I heard voices escalating in disagreement. I bark "Quiet!" and they all hush. I stand there and watch as by 4:10 a.m. all but one was out. And when I say out, I mean mouth hanging open, snoring, a train through the room will not awaken out.
Unfortunately, I am now awake at this point. So, I grab a trash bag. And I spent 48 minutes picking up trash, scrubbing tables and counters, sweeping up popcorn. I decided mopping the floors could wait, and perhaps that would be the penance El Hubbo would pay later for leaving me without backup.
But, right before I sat down to report on the goings on, I did take a look at that room full of sleeping girls and smile and shake my head. Everything can be cleaned and mostly restored to it's almost original condition. It's a small price to pay for what will hopefully be a good memory for all of them.
It's now 5:32 a.m. In a couple hours, I'll start breakfast. Guess I'll go watch the end of the movie until then.
Comments
Post a Comment