It's not even 9:00 here, and this is how the morning has gone:
"Good Morning, Matthew!"
"Where's Daddy? Daddy's here? Is Daddy herrreeeeeeeeee???" (whiny-verging-on-tears-voice)
*insert rolling eyes here*
"Good Morning, Luke!"
*insert expletive here*
Since then, I have been nothing but a nag. A shrew. A screeching banshee of a parent and I am ashamed. But, these children. They've pushed me to the brink:
Matthew! Don't push your brother. Luke, don't eat that, it's not food. Luke, spit that out! Spit. It. OUT, Luke! Matthew, don't bonk your brother, play nicely. He's just a baby and he just wants to play with you. LUKE! Don't bonk your brother, that's not nice.
Matthew, close the door. Matthew, put your underwear back on. I'm trying to pee. No you can't watch. Matthew, leave the toilet paper alone, please, I don't want to tell you again. Matthew! Leave the toilet paper alone, please. What did I just say? Luke, toilet paper is NOT for eating.
Luke, come away please...away from Daddy's CD's please. These are not toys, Luke. Luke! Do NOT eat the CD's. They are not food. No, Matthew, please don't climb on the couch. GET DOWN! Don't climb on the chair, either. Geez, Matthew...what did I just say?
Matthew! GET OFF THAT BOOKCASE!
Matthew: "Mummy, we go see Daddy at work?"
Me: "No, sweetheart, we can't see Daddy at work. He'll be home after supper. We'll see him then, ok?"
Matthew: "I wanna see Daddy! I wanna see Daddddddddyyy at wwwwooorrrrrrrrrkkk!!" (whiny-verge-of-crying-voice)
One of those days.