What's Going on in This House?!

This morning, I dropped N off at CCD and got to spend an hour all by myself. Well, I guess I wasn't exactly all by myself. In fact, There were actually about 200 other people there. And a priest. And a choir. But there were no screaming two and four year old boys. At least, none who belonged to me.

So it kind of felt like I was all by myself.

I stopped taking them to church when they started offering people beer. That was over a year ago. I know they need to be there. I know the holy water would probably be good for them. I also know that they behave like sweet little angels when I drop them off in the church child care room when I go to the moms group. But as for actually taking them to church? I'm just not that brave. I've decided they're not going back until they make their First Communion. (Aunt Marie, if you're reading this from Heaven, I'm just kidding. I know they have to go back before they make their First Communion, so don't worry, I plan on taking them the week before).

While N and I were at church, Jimmy was at home watching the boys. I'm now convinced, however, that men and women have very different ideas of what the word "watch" actually means, since Jimmy was apparently watching O order twenty-six bucks worth of  books on my kindle. They were all CIA themed. He's clearly advanced.

N and I came home with donuts.  O ate the chocolate off one, then threw it at me. Fortunately, he missed. He has a good arm, that kid. But I have been thankful lately for his bad aim. I was particularly thankful for it a few days ago when he threw a box of tea bags at an elderly lady in the grocery store. He missed then, too. I apologized profusely. She laughed. She told me she has boys, too, and shrugged as she walked away.

This morning after missing me with the donut, O proceeded to scream for twenty minutes that he couldn't have another one.

"O, you shouldn't have thrown your last one at Mom," B explained. "That wasn't good". He shakes his head and attempts to roll his eyes, though he doesn't quite have the eye rolling thing down yet, so it looks like he's going cross eyed instead. I make a mental note to have him hang out with N more so he can perfect his eye rolling.

I attempt to ignore O's screaming, and ask N to go clean her room. She runs upstairs in tears.

"Now N's crying too?" B says, with a slightly better eye roll this time. "What's going on this house?!"

An hour later, N has managed to pick up two socks and three crayons from her floor, and stops cleaning to go to the grocery store with Jimmy. These shopping trips tend to make me a little nervous, as they typically result in the purchase of three boxes of cookies, a head of lettuce, a pack of hot dogs, and a bottle of cocktail onions.

Today, however, he bought actual groceries. Bags of them. There were even vegetables.

And then, he cooked them.

Yeah, I know.

After dinner, N went back to clean her room, while B volunteered to wipe the table for me. And then, he actually did it.

He's not the only one wondering what's going on in this house.

I don't know for sure what's going on, though I have an idea.

I suspect someone saw me in church, and recognized me as the mother of those two boys who were offering everyone beer around this time last year.

And they started praying for me.

Really, really hard.