Welcome to another installment of Finish the Sentence Friday where a bunch of writers finish a sentence prompt on their own blog. Check out the links below to better bloggers and writers to make up for my suckage.
The chore I hate doing the most….
As a child, my idea of doing chores was spending a little time on the weekends. As a mother, doing chores is an all day 24/7 event. As a child, a chore was something that seemed like work in the sense it was something I had to do whether I wanted to or not. As a mother, yes they are things I have to do whether I want to or not, but even getting up in the morning is more of a chore at this age than mowing the lawn was when I was a teen. The chore I hate doing the most is all of them, so I’ve narrowed it down to two types.
Tasks I have to do that has nothing to do with the children, but the children are present in my attempt at accomplishment. It can be anything. The dishes. Folding laundry. Writing on my blog. The reason is as long as my kids are around, they will need me every 30 to 60 seconds. It’s like they get jealous of the dishes. Fact: It takes 10 times longer to do something with children around.
Cleaning with kids. You immerse your hands in soapy water after spending 5 minutes adjusting the water temperature to perfection, and a kid wants you to fix the xbox immediately, pour them a juice, and make them a sandwich. Doing things in 30 second increments without having a clue when you can get back to it between is mind boggling.
Even taking a dump. The bathroom is a magical place where anytime I touch the cold porcelain with an ass cheek, the kids need something. Instantly. They have outgrown the age of watching me poop like Dora is leading them in song and dance and have moved to, “MOM!!!” and random thumps, squeals and cries. If every time you sat down to poop, you hear things like, “AHHHHHHHH” and “CLASH BOOM THUMP,” you too would naturally adapt through chronic constipation requiring you to hit the Metamucil prematurely. Seriously, the kids have trained my ass to NOT POOP.
Sleep is another tough task to do with children present, especially if they are awake. But even if they are asleep, any noise in the background, you swear it’s a child in need of something. You lay there hoping and praying it’s just a noise. You wait a minute, start to get comfortable, close the eyes, start thinking about a young Carey Grant, and there it is again.
Children are afraid of monsters coming to “get them.” Parents are afraid of children coming to “get them.”
So you pull the cover over your head in hopes the children can’t see you if they do enter the room for something, and now a thump occurs. So you have to get out of bed to see the house is fine, the children are sleeping, the door is still locked, and the stove is still turned off. Then you trip over a roller skate covered in a pom pom and wake up a kid, “Mommy! I heard a noise! I can’t sleep. Can I play a video game?”
My kids are ages 5, 7 and 8, and I still sometimes hear a baby cry at night. My house is haunted, but I’m pretty sure the crying baby is a PTSD flashback.
Tasks you have to make your children do. It’s one thing to do something while the kids play and allow you to do it. It’s another ball game to get them to do something in particular.
“Annie, get in the bath tub!”
“I’m waiting for the water to warm up.”
“Mmm Hmmm. You don’t want to take a bath do you?”
“It will hurt my boo boo!” <insert pathetic puppy eyes>
I remember trying to leave a Pizza Joint with pizza in hand, Gabby was probably 3 years old and wanted to play in a dark, rainy parking lot instead of leaving. Trying to get her in her car seat against her wishes? Impossible. She planked. Stiff. Solid like a rock. When I walked that line of child abuse and proper parenting to get her strapped in that 5 point harness, her double jointed body would slip right out and instantly go into the back back of the SUV. It took me 45 minutes to convince her to leave, and only with the assistant of a random stranger bribing her with Vitamin C and Zinc bubble gum.
You know they can find their shoe if they can find hidden Easter eggs, but making them find their shoe is more time consuming than finding their shoe.
And making kids go to sleep? You can’t make a kid go to sleep. You can make them lay in bed with their eyes open for 3 hours straight if you are really determined to do nothing but that for 3 hours straight (and some people are that kind of psycho, with pride), but you cannot make them actually fall asleep. This is the one childless people and people blessed with sleeping children cannot seem to wrap their feeble little minds around. The things you would have to do to MAKE a kid go to sleep who simply cannot fall asleep, like duct taping them to a bed and giving them an anesthetic you purchased on the black market or smacking their head with a two-by-four, is child abuse.
I love how people are always, “Just make the kids…” Ha. I wish I could just make you stop telling me to make the kids…, but I can’t, I can’t make people do things they don’t want to do. If I had that kind of power, I’d take over the world. I seriously would. I seriously would take over the world and force everyone against their wishes to be nice, tolerant, peace-loving people. 
But beyond ALL THE CHORES, the chores I specifically hate doing the most include:
Taking the kids to and from school (that’s probably my number one right there)
Disinfecting for lice or norovirus
Picking up stuff from the floor (bad back)
Mopping the floor (bad back)
Cleaning out the Freezer
Wiping down all the cabinets (do they have to make it out of wood?)
Scrubbing the carpet I have (any other carpet is funtastic, but this shit I have right here? When I move out, I’m asking my landlord for a big square of it to take to the shooting range. I’m serious.)
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