In Which I Am Reminded Why I Am Not a Stay-At-Home Mom

"Be good for Mom," said The Husband as he left for work on Monday, his voice combining both exhortation to behave well and a low-level threat about what might happen if they didn't.

School's out, but daycare isn't in session yet, so the kids and I have been driving each other insane enjoying some quality time in this purgatory nice little break between the two.

Now, if I were that Mom, this would be great. I'd have hit Michael's and bought some craft supplies, I'd have fun, new kid-friendly recipes so we could take some fresh-baked treats over to our new neighbours, and I'd have my active-wear jeans ready to go for some super-fun games at the park.

We'd be having so much fun that we'd totally forget we even have a TV, and we'd look up from our tenth happy round of Junior Monopoly with astonishment that it was already 6:00 when The Husband walked in, sniffing appreciatively the homemade lasagna all bubbly and gooey with cheese in the oven.

Riiiiiight.

Seeing as how I am decidedly NOT that Mom, our days have consisted mostly of watching TV (the kids), catching up on some projects around the house (me), and whining (all of us).

"Moooo-ooom, I'm BORED!"

"Moooo-ooom, I'm HUNGRY!"

"How come you guys are always watching TV. Turn that thing off. [....] I don't care if you're bored, I am not a social convener. And yes, computer and DSs both count as screen time."

Doesn't help that it's been raining for three days straight, so we're trying to figure out stuff to do inside. Or that yesterday afternoon, the first time the drizzle let up, I proved I was Awesome Mom.

I'd wondered idly where The Boy was, having sent him to go ride his bike around the block awhile back. Then he showed up, wearing his pajamas with the skeleton on them (he was Skeleton Kid, caped crusader) helmet hanging down his back with the strap tight around his neck, all of it tangled up in a blanket.

"Mom, I was riding my bike and then my cape got caught in my wheels and it was choking me a bit and then a van with a girl in it stopped and then another van with a girl in it stopped and then they had to help me get my cape out of my wheels."

Although I suppose this isn't so much an indictment of my parenting skills as it is a demonstration that Edna Moon was totally right in The Incredibles:

NO CAPES!