Every day. Including weekends. Once 4:45 hits, all hell breaks loose at my house.
It’s the same thing. I’m trying to get some kind of meal started. Kate is at my leg, pulling and crying in meltdown mode.
Emma is running around extra crazy b/c she is generally tired at this point in the day. She hypes herself up to keep herself from falling asleep. This also means picking fights with Kate. Or tipping her sippy cup of juice and watching each (red fruit punch) drop fall to the carpet. Or running in and out to the back and leaving the door open each time.
All they want is me. Even if I stop what I’m doing and play with Emma and just hold Kate, they are still whiny. I have no idea what they want besides dinner, Kate in particular.
I call it the 5 o’clock hell.
Why is it that 5:00 on–until Scott gets home–is the hardest? Each minute feels like an hour. I sit and wonder if every mom with two little ones have to deal with this? It’s miserable.
I would cook more and better meals if I didn’t have to put up with the craziness. It was near impossible today to just make pasta, with Giada sauce, corn and garlic bread. I was tempted to throw away what I started and just order some Goodcents sandwiches delivered. But I couldn’t even pick up my phone w/o screaming in the background.
I can get through breakfast and lunch fine. Everything is calm. Honestly, with breakfast, I’m still half asleep with no contacts in and I still manage to get breakfast cooked (from 2 inches away, I’m blind) and served.
Why is dinner so hard? Why do I fall down on my knees and thank the Lord when I hear the garage door open? Even after dinner is done, I am always the last to eat and end up with a cold meal.
Tips or suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Right now, I’m just sucking it up and keep telling myself they will grow up eventually.