I'm Running Away!

Today has been one of those days when I want to hide in my room with the door locked.

WHO'S KIDS ARE THESE?!

I really, really wish I could have said 'not mine' today.

They seem to only be truely monsterous at church on Sunday. Some think they're tired (if they would stay in bed before midnight, they wouldn't be), or hungry (I can't afford that much milk- nor do I produce that much for Austin... they have to make do with food sometimes), or just want Mommy (what if Mommy doesn't want them?). Someone suggested that the absence of Brett might trigger thier frustration (it sure triggers mine, but if he would stay in bed after midnight, he wouldn't be just falling asleep at 8 am).

We were 45 minutes late for church today. Sitting in the foyer, I was trying to help a friend with a Primary something, Shane and Austin were both fussing for milk in thier preferred forms (apparently, the 8 minute trip out there was simply too long to go without it). Shane fussed about Primary, so Aussie and I go in until he adjusts (which he doesn't do until he gets his milk). Austin is disrupting everything and everyone (except the choruster who gets a kick out of watching him lead music). I got Austin out, and he found his way into the adult Sunday School class and gave them all an impromptu mini-concerto on the piano (said the brother who brought him back to me). It was time for RS by the time I got it all sorted out.
Austin is trouble incarnate when it comes to the women's meeting. He steals the chalk from the chalk board, books from peoples' hands, pens and pencils from the tables, pounds on the windows (and the piano if he can), climbs on chairs, dumps out his food... he won't sit with anyone, won't stay in one place, won't play with the toys I or anyone else provides, talks and laughs during the spiritual parts and cries at the slightest dissapointment. Today, I finally got him to sleep- drool was dribbling down my shoulder. I asked the Bishop to hold him while I cleaned up the cereal he'd spread everywhere. The second the switch was made and my hand left his back completely... he woke up screaming. And kept it up until I'd finished the chore and had him back in my arms. Bishop was a wonderful sport (he has a grand-baby the same age).
I still had the usual going home stuff to deal with- neither one wanting to get into the car, Austin flipping out over his car seat, the crying for milk (yes, again), the cold car. Then, once we get home, there's the not wanting to go inside (even though it's cold and raining and the ground is covered in slush- or maybe because it's cold and raining and the ground is covered in slush), not wanting to take off thier coats, but not wanting the coats on either (same with the shoes)- diapers, milk, movies, get off the cat, leave the dog's face alone... I can't hold you and get all the things your demanding at the same time... don't wake up the neighbors- or Dad...

Finally, I ignored them both for a second, snagged Brett's super Maverick mug (50+ oz) from the cupboard and made a GIANT "cup" of berry tea. I only got a few sips before the boys were fussing for some (they've drank half of it already), but those few sips seem to have given me just enough to keep going. Though locking myself into my bedroom still sounds like a good idea- I can (hopefully) survive until midnight when I can.

Anyone want to borrow a couple boys?

Please?