Monday, July 21, 2014

This is the summer of soccer tournaments. Every weekend. All weekend. The kids roll with it pretty with it pretty well. Down to bringing money for sno-cones. But still,  it's a lot, so I try to make it more pleasant for the kids. So I dropped the boys off at grandma's Thursday night, partly so that they didn't have to deal  with Friday games and Friday traffic.  And so I didn't have to deal with them during Friday games and Friday traffic. 
In the words of Grandma,  X-Man and she came to an understanding. X-Man is the father figured trapped in a toddler's body, so this is most certainly not grandma's first rodeo. As a result, everyone had a pleasant time. The potty was used appropriately and all was well on the home front. 

I left them on Thursday evening, before I began my soccer practice runs. Bouncing between practices was an enjoyable and quiet. I observed that Cinco, when there are no siblings blocking her, likes to head bang while I drive. She was enthusiastic and calm.

Friday was long, especially as Cinco fought her nap as much as possible. The father figure was supposed to pick the boys up, but he was stuck working late. I didn’t even get onto the right side of the river until almost nine pm, so the boys stayed an extra night. This worked out well, as Baba had an early game. This way we would go together and go pick up the boys. And so we did. Enjoying the calm morning and the simplicity of caring for two independent children and a baby.

I was excited to pick up the boys. I missed them a lot and I was ready to have X-Man’s hefty arms around my neck and Mac’s steady stream of consciousness. It was off without the boys there. And so we retrieved the missing pieces of the family and headed back to the soccer tournament.
We hadn’t hit the freeway before my head was hurting. IT. WAS. SO. LOUD. The serenity of the past close to 48 hours was not just shattered, it was pulverized. And there was no reason for it to be so loud. Except that suddenly there were two boys in the van.

First it was screaming for fun. X-Man was waving goodbye to Grandma and yelling “Bye grandma!” The he and Mac started to yell goodbye to the trees and houses and everything. Then Baby started to yell at them to stop yelling. So X-Man yelled at Baby.  And Mac gesticulated wildly and hit Baby. Who hit Mac, who yelled at the father figure, who yelled at Baby to stop hitting. Then Cinco joined in. It was as if she had forgotten all the noise she could make while her brothers were away. She excitedly shrieked and then removed her shoes, for no good reason. Continuing along the lines of random, not helpful, behavior, Cinco threw her shoes. One hit Mac in the head, which prompted more yelling. X-Man yelled because he could.

Then a fire engine flew by. This led to X-Man channeling theminion fire alert noise. Which is this decade’s seagulls from Finding Nemo. Only more annoying.

Ten minutes into a forty minute drive, the father figure and I exchanged horrified looks. It was chaos. And apparently we lived with this on a day by day basis. Clearly this was the case as Baba was sleeping through it. You don’t understand how insane it is until you don’t hear it for a couple minutes. All this chaos, stemmed from two little boys. Just two. Feeding off each other and continually upping the ante.

Of course, in the middle of the freeway, X-Man announced that he had to use the potty. Mac was concerned that we hadn’t heard and amplified X-Man’s bellowing. Baby, who was aware that we had herad, was concerned that we weren’t enthusiastic enough and started clapping and shouting “good boy! Good job! Good boy!” Cinco started clapping too.

By the time the bathroom break was done, things seemed to have settled down. Or I had reverted back to my survival mode. Life seemed normal. But I still remember peace and quiet. Maybe I’ll get back there some day….when the boys are in college.

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