Why I.H.A.T.U is now running through my head.

Today has been a wonderful day of rising above "the man". Of course in my case "the man" title is shared by one of my co-workers and a first grader. Now what do these two diverse people have in common you ask? Well I'll tell you.

Let me lay the scene:

At 8 am my great nieces and nephew, ages 6, 5, and 3 come to the house. We're watching all three children today because their mother is out of town, and their dad is at work. The oldest girl is at school, and the next oldest goes at 11:15. My great nephew is staying with us all day.

At 10 am or so I now know I'm running behind in getting everything I need to do done before I leave. Having children at my house, and a husband at a ministers meeting is not condusive to accomplishing tasks that require a modicum of concentration. So I call my co-worker who I am working for tomorrow. Now this co-worker never actually told me if I'm working a half day or a whole day, so my plan is to say I can work a half day because it'd be really nice to have the afternoon to complete my to-do list. To make a long story short, my co-worker basically throws a fit on the phone because she wanted to take a full day off, and actually tells me to "get organized". *sigh* Ok. So instead of fighting for myself, I just tell her that "ok, I'll work all day (because you have a ONE HOUR doctors appointment in the morning)"  I didn't actually say the part in the parenthesis. I should have though.

So, having completed that useless phone call I continue on with my day. The two kids and I make a loaf of apple bread. Flour is everywhere, but fun is had by all. Then the other girl goes to school. I make Mac and Cheese for the one that's left, he eats it, and actually lays down for a nap. To good to be true. I had two hours of blissful silence to concentrate on my hard tasks.

Then, at 2:45 the girls get out of school and Rob goes to football practice.

I'm dropping the kids off back at home at 5, so I only have a couple more hours with them until it's time to go. No big deal. I handled the entire day, a couple of hours shouldn't be that hard. Cinderella 3 is requested, and we stick it in the machine. They watch maybe 10 minutes of it then start screaming. Not at anything, just screaming. I, in my deafness, decide that if I watch the movie with them they might settle down and save the rest of my hearing. They calm down a tad, color a little, and semi-peacefulness reigns.

Then, the movie is over and all hell breaks loose.

It's almost time for the kids to go. They have maybe, a 45 minutes left. We make another loaf of apple bread somewhere in the middle of it all. And then they start behaving like monsters. It was like aliens came and abducted the nice children I had and replaced them with DEMONS! The oldest, who charmingly enough has learned to write. Wrote on a piece of paper 4 things: I love you, I hate you (spelled I hat you), you are silly, and you are funny. She then proceeded to fold the paper up until only the I hate you part was showing and kept showing it to me. I tried every different way I could to get the kids under control to no avail. The youngest two I could manage fine, but the oldest...I actually had to manhandle her to the car when it was time to go, without shoes, socks, or a coat because she was running away from me. After I got the lovely written message of I hat you. I told her that "no, she couldn't kick my window" and "no, she couldn't pound on my piano, but play it nicely" she started jumping on the couch and yelling at the top of her lungs I.H.A.T.U. When I finally figured out what she was spelling I just sat down on the couch and let them run. They were screaming, yelling, and behaving like monkeys, but I had had it. The oldest was chanting all the while I.H.A.T.U. Basically all I did for the last 15 minutes of my time with them was keep them from bleeding, but other than that they did whatever they could trying to provoke me to anger. I never got angry, and their behavior got worse. I just gave them the options of sitting down and putting on their shoes so we could go home, or go home without shoes and socks. The youngest two finally conceded to the shoes and socks and coat. But I wrestled a kicking 6 year old to the car, who was still chanting I.H.A.T.U. at the top of her lungs. No coat, no socks, no shoes. She looked at me and said "I HATE YOU" and I told her "Well I'm not particularly fond of you at this moment either sugar" and buckled her into her car seat. 

And she's had her revenge, because I can't get the chant of I.H.A.T.U. out of my head. 

But wait there's more! My husband just walked in the door after youth group tonight with a small bouquet of flowers and some chocolate. Suddenly my co-worker and I.H.A.T.U seems manageable. :) What a sweetie.