Basketball and Glitter

Saturdays used to be the best. Rob and I could lay in bed all morning while the kids watched cartoons. We could pretend we couldn’t hear the constant stream of screaming and tattle-telling that followed. Until someone drew blood, the day wouldn’t even begin. Then I enrolled the children in basketball. My love of doing nothing on Saturdays was the precise reason I enrolled them in Friday evening classes. They attended one practice before I received the email regarding the schedule change. It seems it’s not easy to find instructors willing to teach 3-5 year old basketball. I can’t imagine why as my daughter spends the entire practice face down on the floor refusing to play. The lack of instructors has resulted in a class consolidation on Saturday mornings at 8:30 am. The email was short, sweet, and ended with “Thanks for being flexible.” This means every Saturday morning for the next six weeks will be a debate between Rob and I of who has to take them. This involves waking up at 7:00 am, on our day off, getting Soph and Cam dressed and feed, and enduring 55 minutes of 10 screaming chaotic children. In addition, we have now paid for at least 3 classes that Cameron may not be attending due to his custody arrangement. Since I stayed home last night while Rob played poker with friends, he offered to start the trade-off. I spent 20 minutes trying to brush some unknown sticky substance from Sophia’s hair. I finally gave up and pulled it into a tangled mass of a ponytail. I finished dressing my children in mismatched clothes and threw them out the front door. Sam and I went back to sleep, taking advantage of the rare silence. I awoke an hour later to find myself in the land of Fairytopia. Everything in our house from the flat screen TV’s to the hardwood floors were covered in a thick coat of glitter. My daughter stood proudly in the middle with a huge smile on her face. I could hardly look at her as the reflection of glitter on her entire body was near blinding. Rob had come home and stayed long enough to drop the kids off before heading to the store. While I slept, Sophia had found my $40 glitter puff from Victoria Secrets and emptied the entire contents around the house. The more I wiped at it the worse it got. I was sure I had hidden the damn thing after she completely glittered Sam last weekend. I had to bring him to a baby shower looking like he had just spent the morning at the strip clubs. I had just finished wiping the glitter off my laptop when I spotted Sophia standing atop the railing looking over the stairs. The count down from 5 warned me there was a plan of jumping. I tripped over the coffee table and grabbed her before she reached 1. I then had to explain the difference between Victoria Secret body glitter and fairy dust. One of them does not allow you to fly. She stomped off angry and yelling. My thoughts turned to my first trimester of partying before I finally got a positive pregnancy test with her. At least once a day I question my children having brain damage. I'm sure I'm not alone.