5 o'clock

I think it was my mom who first introduced me to the descriptive phrase that so aptly describes this time of day in almost every household with children.  She calls it “the witching hour.”  When Riley was a baby, I spent 5 o’clock standing at the sink in the kitchen, singing Dock of the Bay, dunking Riley’s chubby legs in warm water.  I held her against me and blew in her ear, closing my eyes so that we could  both pretend we were sitting by the ocean with the warm surf washing over us.  Even with just one child, and she a baby, my greatest Calgon Take Me Away moments happened at 5 o’clock.  Only our little ritual at the sink softened Riley’s cries at that hour.  Now, I often start the 5 o’clock hour sincerely whispering, Lord, help me, while trying to remember that even though I am exhausted, I can still laugh and give thanks for these amazing little people that God has entrusted into my care.

During track out, the kids enjoy watching one movie a day, strategically placed on the schedule at the time when I will be preparing our dinner.:)  I rotate the person who gets to choose the movie, both to insure variety and also in an attempt to avoid the but I never get to pick the movie conversation.  On Thursday, Zoe chose The Little Mermaid.   While this is an excellent choice for her, it’s a little too socially complicated to capture Adam’s and Riley’s devoted attention.  I can imagine that they are thinking:  So you don’t have legs.  Who cares?  Swimming is more fun anyway.  Why would you NOT want to be a mermaid?  I smiled to see Zoe curled into her favorite chair.  She was absorbed in the drama, and for her, watching that movie brought pure bliss.

Adam, now well aware that Captain Harrassment shows up every time he turns into Sensory Boy (he’s a quick study, in all things), decided to opt for some productive play.  He even stayed in the living room, lest I miss him and press him into service in the kitchen.:)  Mom and Dad got Adam this really neat toy for Christmas called a Poingo.  Adam loves it.  It came with a Cars book and a Nemo book, and when he points at the words in the books the Poingo reads to him.  Adam is an excellent reader, but he loves to point at the words and have us read them to him as he points.  While Zoe was deeply engrossed in The Little Mermaid, Adam got his Poingo and started listening to Cars (which, by the way, just happened to have been his movie selection the day before).  Race cars Adam can appreciate.  All those furiously spinning wheels…WAY cool.  I noticed that as soon as the Poingo started reading, Zoe hopped up and increased the volume on her movie just a few clicks.  After the Poingo finished, I guess Adam decided to reenact the experience.  He got Zoe’s Barbie cash register and started reading Cars into the microphone.  I’ve noticed that none of our kids know how to use that microphone without practically eating it.  Suddenly we heard a muffled intercom version of Cars all through the kitchen and dining room.  Zoe got up and clicked up the volume on her movie about twenty clicks more.

You know, of all the features on that Barbie cash register, the microphone is by far the favorite.  I have chuckled more than once thinking what it would be like if the intercom system in the grocery store actually worked the way that my kids imagine.  Instead of “clean up on aisle 3” or “more cashiers needed at the front,” we’d suddenly all be listening to creepy-even-slightly-irriateted sounding cashiers interrogating those checking out.  “WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BUY?!” Riley always mouths in low tones.  “I’ll have coffee and cat food,” Zoe answers, also on the microphone.  Every so often, someone would come on and read us a really loud, slightly muffled story.  Talk about grocery shopping as a whole new experience!

Anyway, while Zoe was watching a very loud Little Mermaid and Adam was reading Cars into the cash register microphone, Riley, disturbed that there just wasn’t going to be enough time in the day for her to do a worksheet at the table, had gotten a double-digit addition problems worksheet and sat at the table using Touch Math.  She “carried her ones” aloud, counted the addition aloud, discussed the solutions with herself aloud at the kitchen table.  Considering that she once said very little, I love that doing a worksheet is a complete monologue for Riley.  I have to say though, if I had the ability to isolate the sounds coming from the three rings of my little circus in my head, I would do it.  It’s a cacophany all at once.

While all of this was going on, I was trying to have a telephone coversation with my mom, who finally admitted that if she was pausing a lot when I asked her questions it was because she couldn’t hear me.:)  I was also trying to remember what I was in the midst of creating for dinner, thinking about what Kevin would be eating for lunch the next day, and answering more questions than you can imagine about Ursula’s motivations for stealing Ariel’s voice.  Ah, 5 o’clock.  It’s enough to drive a mother to drink.