Outnumbered Two to One

• My watch died. Please take a moment to compose yourselves.

• I am LOST without my watch. Yes, I have other time pieces in the house but it’s not the same as being able to look directly at my wrist and be able to tell how late it’s getting while simultaneously lamenting about all the things I haven’t accomplished. Also, if one of the kids wakes up in the middle of the night, I have no way of knowing what ungodly hour it is, thereby making it impossible for me to complain to my husband about all the crying he missed in the early morning while I was up soothing and he was sleeping like a log.

• My wrist is naked.

• I DVR Yo Gabba Gabba in case of emergencies. It is my two year old’s drug of choice (yes, I am an enabler, thankyouverymuch) and it is guaranteed to quell any looming tantrums almost instantly. The newest episode features Jack Black taking a wrong turn on a talking motorbike and getting lost in Gabba land. I don’t know about you, but there’s no coming back from a trip like that. When DJ Lance equips you with your own orange pant suit, I think it’s safe to assume you’re there to stay.

• You know you want one of your own.

• We’ve actually managed to get to the park a couple of times this week since our kids are finally on the mend. We flew a kite and my husband shot off some rockets he and the kids built. It was nice being out of our flu infested home. I like sun light, I hadn’t seen any in a while. Did you know it lights up the entire sky?

• There’s something very relaxing about hanging on to the end of a kite string and watching it whip around in midair. It clears the mind. Less soothing is the sound of a screeching two year old getting bored to tears almost immediately and making a run for the distant swing set, or the eye-rolling teenager loudly complaining about being sweaty and wishing she were home.

• Relaxation is overrated anyway.

• 3/4 of my children have absolutely no sense of modesty. My boys routinely expose themselves if given the opportunity and my appalled reaction probably makes it that much more enticing to them. I finally had to pull my six year old aside and explain to him how in the real world, whipping out your privates in public will get you arrested and put in jail. This did little to smother his giggles, so I had to threaten him instead with the appropriation of his beloved Nintendo DS. That hit home. Now if I could only get my two year old to stop peeling off his clothes when I’m not looking.

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