Little Monsters

It's official: our children are monsters.

A couple of Sundays ago I was the only one not sick, so everyone stayed home while I went to church. Halfway through I received a text message from Dominic: "What do you think is messier: raw eggs or poop? How about both all smeared over the kitchen floor?" Uh oh. But I thought it would all be cleaned up by the time I got home and he wouldn't need me, so I stayed.

When I arrived home, Dominic had cleaned up 3 Lisy messes and given her a bath. One problem he had was that she would make another mess while he cleaned up a previous one. After bathing her, he put her in the crib and finished cleaning the house. She screamed the entire time, but at least she couldn't make another mess. I felt really bad for Dominic, because he was sick, which is why he was home. The next day we bought a fridge lock.

Just this past Sunday, the boys were making a lot of noise on the floor and barely acknowledged my commands to quiet down. Our downstairs neighbors have a 3-month-old baby. The dad reached a breaking point and pounded on their ceiling, our floor. It scared my boys, who finally stopped stomping around. I was very embarrassed by their behavior, but I am grateful they obeyed someone.

The 3 little monsters do have their good moments, but they are still young children. They have a tendency to laugh when I want to yell at them.