At the dinner table last night, Emma had a meltdown because I told her she couldn’t go to Club Penguin after she finished eating. She knows our rule is no computer and/or video games on school nights, but she has been pushing the issue daily since school started last Thursday. Withdrawal symptoms being a bitch and all.

When she had worked herself up into a real tizzy, and the other five of us were starting to feel sharp pain shooting from our eardrums, Rob took the liberty of swatting her on the leg under the table — something he rarely does — which had the effect of making her cry louder. Because OUCH. Plus, she still really wanted to play on the computer.

At this point, Katelynn, whose dinner attire consisted of exactly one pair of Dora panties, one pair of pink cowboy boots, and a red cowboy hat, stood up from the table.

Left hand on left hip, she pointed at Rob and shouted, “Don’t you EVUH! EVUH! spank my sister Emma. EVVVVV-UUUUUHHHH!” punctuating her “evuh’s” with jabs of her pointing index finger.

Upon hearing this, Emma abruptly stopped crying and raised her head from where it had been buried in her hands. She turned to Rob and flatly said
“She has a point.”

It finally happened. The house is cleared out of everyone except Katelynn and me. Rob’s at work and the three older kids are at their first day of school.

And it’s just so oddly quiet. And peaceful.

Like a person could actually think.

Yesterday morning by 10:30, my four children were quite successfully carrying out the Tuesday version of their Well-Laid Plan to Make Mom Crazy. They got out of bed especially early to get a head start, seeing as how their time is very limited now. School starting tomorrow and all.

Rob came inside from mowing the lawn to find me in the kitchen mentally tearing my hair out. He stopped whistling.

My voice barely a whisper through my clinched teeth, I said to him, “You had seriously better do something to thwart those children’s efforts to send me off the deep end over the next forty-eight hours.”

Rob’s face turned very serious and he slowly lifted a finger and pointed to our gray tabby cat Pete, who was asleep in the sun on the dining room table. His own voice a whisper too now, Rob said, “My Enforcer will take care of everything.”

Katelynn wasn’t looking too well by Friday evening, so we took her to the hospital. X-rays showed her pneumonia was worse, so the doc recommended IV antibiotics.

I dreaded the IV insertion, but when the needle went in she only said “Ouch” and watched the entire process. Maybe having a nurse for a Mama helped?

Half a syringe and halfway through my reading How to Be a Grouch she fell into a deep sleep. WORN. OUT.

We were able to take her home that evening with the IV in place and bring her back on Saturday for one more dose of Rocephin.

Her fever is gone now, but her cough is terrible. Which is good I guess since she’s supposed to be coughing all that crud out of her lungs. But it sounds awful. And wakes her up frequently during the night. Which is also good I guess since she’s taking a couple of much-needed naps during the day.

Me too.