Day 2 Almost Over....

Can I just say now, that those of you who have more then one child, have my respect. Oh my gawd.

I am worn out. Feel like maybe I have run the Flying Pig Marathon (local marathon, not calling the children flying pigs, because well, that would be weird!).

I had no clue that when children got together, that the pack mentality got brought to the surface. Nor did I know that they would become hungry through osmosis. It seems like an hour after they have eaten, they are ravenous again. Now for lunch I made scrambled eggs, bagels, apples, and craisins.

That would be 10 eggs scrambled with milk. That would be 3 whole bagels split. 2 large apples peeled, cored, and cut. And possibly a cup of craisins. Except for the Picker, all wolfed it down. All had drinks with the meal too.

An hour later the "I'm starvvvving" mantra began. Now I am just sitting down for a bit of a break, with my own lunch--a large salad, with lots of salad, and not as much dressing as I would like, you know being healthy sort of sucks that way. Anyway, so I sit down to eat my rabbit munch lunch, when I hear the dreaded words come out of Mr. Furious.

"I'mmmm hungryyyyy."

I am thinking in my head, because saying it out loud would require my mouth to not have salad in it:
'how can you be hungry? Not possible. Please do not let the rest of the rest of the hyena's, I mean kids hear you.' Finish chewing. Take a swig of my lo cal drink--water--blech. And begin to speak:

"How can you be hungry? No way man. You are just bored, and we do not eat because we are bored." Ha, top that Mr Furious!

"I am hungry Mooooooom. Please, please can I eat?"

Now that usually gets me. I hate that he begs, so I give him healthy choices, evil mother that I am.

"You can have a banana, an apple, some grapes, craisins, pineapple, or carrots."

The red rushes to his face, and I see behind him the other have gathered. Like zombies looking for brains, and finding the only living brain donor around. Shit, this is not good.

"I want chips. Not fruit, and not carrots." Pout, stomp foot, pout.

Oh god help me, this is going to suck major ass having this discussion right now.

"No chips. No junk. The closest to junk I am willing to make is popcorn. But this is a take it or leave it thing. You keep pouting and you will get nothing. Not dealing with the attitude over apples."

The crowd advances on me. I hear the moaning that one would normally associate with zombies in search of fresh grey matter. Maybe they have turned into zombies? What the hell was in those eggs to turn them zombie like? This is so not good. God help me. Where is Sean of the Dead when you need him?

Moan, moan, whine, whine. Stomp, stomp. Mumble grumble.

Then they sort of walk away. Although to be fair, the 7 year old ring leader--Mr. Furious, has to be threaten with holy water before he backs off.

I cannot understand where all the food they have eaten has gone. Later in the day I give them, what is essentially a 1 pound bag of baby carrots. It is like a swarm of termites eating through a rotted board. Utterly amazing.

Now I am hearing the dreaded:
"I'm hungryyyyyyyy."

I am so tempted to say :
"Hi hungry, nice to meet you. I'm Robyn. Your day orphanage warden for the day. Would you like whining or non whining seats today?"

I think it would be lost on them, no matter how funny I would find it!

Oi!