Moment of Chaos: Mommy's Law

I think I'm going to start a new segment here on Boy Crazy called Moment of Chaos, where I'll enlighten (amuse? frighten?)you all with a little snapshot from my day. Keep in mind it is only a moment and that my whole day doesn't look like this, but for journalistic purposes, I have to pick and choose. Maybe it will be a good idea to balance these out with a Moment of Clarity segment as well....


11:00am. I'm holding Axel on my hip and pouring frozen blueberries into a dish for Eli to eat at the kitchen table. Owen seems to be playing contentedly by himself in the livingroom, I think. At least I can't hear or see him. Seizing the moment of relative quiet, I pick up the phone to call my sister.

Any seasoned mother will tell you this was my first mistake. Isn't it Murphy's Law that warns that once a mother lifts the phone to her ear, children are pulled by a gravitational-like force to her hip, lap, legs, or feet; involuntarily uttering incoherent whines and pleas, screams and yells until she hangs up the phone, at which point the children are sucked back through the universe to their previously contended states of existence? Maybe that's Mommy's Law....Anyway.

I pick up the phone to make celebration plans with my big sister, and the baby starts fussing. With the phone pinched precariously between my ear and my shoulder, I step over train tracks and matchbox cars, searching for a place to sit down to nurse him. But Owen has the cushions from both couches laid out in an elaborate course on the floor, and the two chairs in the room are covered with library books and plastic dinosaurs with pokey horns.

I yell to Owen (and into my sister's ear, since I don't have a hand free to cover the mouthpiece)I need a place to sit!, so he dumps a pile of crap onto the floor in front of the rocking chair. Not where I have to walk! I say, as I step over the pile and plunk down for a minute.

My sister and I try to make plans as I feed the baby and shoo Owen away (because at this point he is desperately trying to win my attention by boinging from cushion to cushion, calling in a yelled whisper Mom! Mom! Do you like my course? Mom!)

Enter Eli. Purple mouth, purple hands. (Remember the blueberries?) I want to play!

Me, into the phone: Don't touch anything! Nothing! You have to stand there not touching anything while I nurse the baby and finish this phone call! I am obviously in a rational state of mind, no?

From here, there is no point in giving you a play by play. Owen and Eli start fighting (read SCREAMING) over the order of the cushions and who gets to go first. My attempts at restraining Eli with one leg are futile. The baby thinks my nipple is his personal property, to be taken with him as he cranes his neck 180 degrees to watch his brother. And my sister tells me,

"You know, I love your kids. But I am so glad I am past this phase."

And I realize that I am in, what they refer to as, The Thick of It.

But what I'm wondering is, is there a Thin of It?

Are you in the thick of it or the thin of it? What was your daily moment of chaos? Share comments, commiserations, or suggestions for thwarting Mommy's Law below, and I'll be your best friend. I'll even wait to call until the kids are quiet.