Tiny Tragedies

The bus drops the FarmHands off at 4 o'clock each afternoon.  By 4:02 my once quiet house is a swirling mass of chaos and confusion and conflict.  Every day.  It doesn't matter how well they're getting along- once they hit the door they all fall apart.

I've given myself over to the rush of crazy that cannot be avoided from 4:02 to 4:30 every day.  There will be crying.  There will be arguments.  There will be weakness from near starvation.  There will be injuries or stomach aches or headaches or other ailments.  There will be sadness and heartache.

But just occasionally, there will be a hug for mom.

Today Bitsy fell and skinned her elbow the moment they hit the driveway.  She screamed bloody murder all the way up to the house while BabyGirl coddled her and B.B. screamed, "Bitsy's hurt!  Bitsy's hurt!"  I could see from the front windows that she was not "run down the driveway and carry her to the house" hurt, so I didn't.  Once inside, she cried for 30 minutes about a scrape she would normally slap a wet paper towel on and run off to play.  She cried for a cup of milk. She screamed for a banana.  And finally, she passed out on the couch sucking her fingers half wrapped in a blanket.

B.B. entered the house ready to fall to pieces because we're not doing Boy Scouts.  This has been an on going argument since #1 Son started 1st grade.  Every year they have an assembly for the boys from 1st to 5th grade where the praises of Boy Scouts are sung.  Every year they bring home their sign up sheet and every year I say no.

I have nothing against the Boy Scouts- on the contrary- I think they're a wonderful organization and if I only had the boys, I'd sign them up in a heart beat.  But I have girls.  Yes, I know, they have girl scouts, but I don't have time to shuttle 4 kids to 4 different places 15 times a week (all exaggerations, I know).  We have our hands full with school, work, 4-H, and cheerleading.  I am not adding scouting to the mix.  They boys know this but inevitably we have the same issue every school year.

B.B. is convinced that every boy in the entire school, save him and his brother, are partying their lives away at scout meetings complete with free toys and all you can eat s'mores.  Nothing I say can dissuade him, do I've given up trying.  I just ride out the very brief wave of grief.  It rarely lasts more than a day or two and
never has lasting effects........although I'm mildly convinced Boy Scouts will be B.B.'s Easy Bake Oven.  You see, Inkling had an Easy Bake Oven and I always wanted one but my parents would never buy it.

I'm off to pout now.  And dream of the fabulous brownies I never got to bake with a hundred watt bulb.