Delivery Service

I love libraries. The warm smell of paper, beautiful orderliness and the quiet snick as people type, searching for information. It holds one of my favorite addictions-books. A place where I could spend hours, if allowed.

We made a run to the library today. It was all four beasties-the big boys had a half day. We traipse through the library, a miasma of sounds surrounds us, interrupting the hush. We pick out movies, then off exploring the shelves for waiting treasures. I love how my children love the library...I just don't love bringing my children there. Where once a peaceful place, you add my brood and it becomes active, chaotic. I catch Gunnison as he runs to show Josiah a "special" book shouting at the top of his lungs, "Jos, it's your favorite!". I herd Gavin away from his typing on the computer-to look for books on ninjas (hmmm...are we surprised). Josiah wanders over to the non-fiction on his own. Emme, thankfully, is trapped in her carseat carrier. She, however, adds to the cacophony with her squeals, turning quickly fretful. Me? Do I get a chance to feed my lust for letters lined neatly on the page? No, this visit isn't for me. I'll get my fix sans beasties around, thank you.

We collect our chosen items and head for the front desk. Gav isn't feeling well, so he lays down. Josiah joins him. Gunner is off, well...who knows why Gunnison likes to meander off, and Emmeline has now officially had it. I stand patiently (as much as I possibly can) bouncing the car seat to calm Little Miss, but set her down to dart after wandering Gun. Her fussing reaches shrieks. I think we have officially passed the point of "you sure have your hands full". Yes, we have. We have reached the point of "Delivery Service". I entered the realm of fast food library-ness. With the suggestion and understanding smile (from a second librarian who arrived on the scene), I pack up my beasties and move on out to the car. They delivered our literary goodies right to my driver's window. With great gratitude (and a wee bit of shame) I appreciated the delivery service.

There will always be another library outing. How could I possibly keep my children from learning to love the library as much as I do? BUT- Here's to hoping I won't be using that particular service again.

Dinner & a Show

The show was a farce...

We settle down to eat the chicken noodle soup and biscuits I made for dinner. There is a bit of a scuffle over who gets to say the prayer. Gunnison asks first, so he is the lucky one. Gavin, the unlucky one taps his spoon throughout the prayer in defiance over the situation. Kit and I ask the big boys about school, people munch, I feed Emmeline, things are good. Kit turns to me, "Where's Gunner?" Hmmm...youngest son is missing. We find him, make him stay at the table and eat a little more of his, as of yet, untouched food. Gavin tells Josiah to pull his finger (??!!!). I quickly put a stop to that-I don't like potty-humor, especially NOT at the table. But, the discussion of what pulling your finger (or hand) means ensues. I sigh, Kit laughs...dinner continues. Where's Gunner? We find him, remind him he has to stay at the table until he is excused. He picks out a few pieces of chicken from his bowl and starts eating (sans silverware of course). Kit and I start talking about the house; Josiah breaks out in song (we actually have a rule against singing at the dinner table-cruel and unusual, I know). Gavin shows off by seeing how high he can flip his spoon by slamming his fist on the handle and...where's Gunner? We haul his skinny little bottom back to the table, make him eat one more bite, ask to be excused, and now he's legitimately on the loose. Gavin tells us the noodles taste funny and asks to be excused. He's legitimately on the loose. Josiah asks for another bowl of soup, his third (!!!), but only the "liquid soup part" because "I don't really like the rest of it". He hunches over his bowl, his hands demurely laying in his lap, and proceeds to slurp loudly from his bowl, with just his mouth. Emmeline, not to be outdone by the chaos around her, decides to squeal and make herself heard. Gunnison comes running into the room, Gavin's chasing him. We send him back out. We look down, and Gavin is skulking in and trying to hide under the table and Emme's high-chair. He is "spying" and "being a ninja"; we send him back out. Josiah declares loudly he is stuffed, and to prove it, lifts up his shirt to see just how much his belly protrudes from between his bony litttle rib cage. He asks to be excused and heads out to join the fray of the chase/battle we can hear coming from the family room beyond the kitchen. Kit and I smile, laugh...or cry?? and comment on how in 30 minutes, the meal had become a dinner and a show.