The time is 6:37 and I am tired, you know that kind of tired you feel right to your bones? It hits every time this night.
For the last hour Patrick has run around the house squealing and yelling at the top of his lungs. He loves cause and effect and the loud noise sure gets a good response from his brothers.
I have told them if they would just ignore him he would stop but they can’t help themselves and will yell back and chase him. It takes us about 45 minutes to eat our dinner with all the noise and fighting.
Campbell’s gone and hidden from it all for awhile and has proudly come out from his bedroom to show me that he has bitten himself instead of yelling at his little brother. He has a huge welt on his arm. He’s not bothered by this at all, I don’t think he feels much pain. I’ll have to invest in something more suitable for biting.
Kallan is getting upset because Patrick has now smacked the television and Kallan thinks it’s broken and is crying.
Patrick is squealing, throwing toys and acting like a maniac in general. I squeeze him into a pressure vest. It doesn’t calm his high in the slightest.
Now its 6:37 and I’ve managed to get the floor swept, the dishwasher emptied and stacked and everything tidy in between this.
Patrick has finally settled on a calm activity before bed, bouncing his bouncy balls in a bucket. The other boys are reading.
Only 22 minutes until Patrick’s bed time, and I’m watching the clock like a hawk.