foster care, parenting

3 kids 3 cats not an instant of peace

It was a school night. It was one of those nights where you struggle to get everything done and all you want in the world is to lay your head on the pillow. We had the tutor and the behavioral specialist appointments in the house at the same time. Fiona (6) was destracted and not paying attention to the tutor. We had told her to sit in a solid chair (no wheels) and when she didn’t listen, the behavioral specialist told us to physically move her. She did that dead weight thing where kid’s muscles go completely loose and the body sags to the ground. The tutor wound up on the floor with her (god bless her!) and they did their sight words down there. Meanwhile, Mason was refusing to eat, instead interrupting both the tutor and the behavioral specialist at every point. The door bell rang and we got in trouble with the master’s association for having too many cars parked outside. My face went red and the behavioral specialist had to calm me down.

Finally, everyone leaves. I send the kids up to put pajamas on but no one is listening. I go upstairs, put their pajamas on, tuck them in, while Lucas is toddling around downstairs babbling away and Joe is sitting in his recliner. I finally close the bedroom doors only to see our overly friendly black cat squatting outside our bedroom door with clumps of poop popping out. I scold and give chase, watching the clumps pop out down the steps, across the living room and into the dining room. I yell, “Joe- poop” and continued for the cat. Joe yells “Lucas,” who had taken the moment to reach down and grab the ball of cat poo with one hand. Said hand was clasped just before reaching into his curious mouth. I grabbed the cat, threw her into the closet with the litter boxes and started picking up stinky brown balls that made a trail through out the two story house.

What a day!


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