You'd Think I'd Have More of a Plan When I Start to Write. I Blame it on the Kidlets.

It's Sunday morning and I'm lying in bed, listening to my children watch TV downstairs, because I'm a fabulous parent like that, catching up on my blogs because I finally gave in and called the stupid help line last night to figure out how to get my internet connection working again. Thus my recent absence from the online world. One of my children decided to flip the power switch to all the computer stuff the other day, and when I turned it back on and the wireless modem/router/whatever reset, it decided I did not have the right system password on my computer, thankyouverymuch.

Initially when I thought maybe I was dealing with an AT&T U-verse situation (which is what we have over at the apartment, apparently), I was speaking to someone with a distinctly MidWestern accent. Oh, wow! I thought. How nice! You mean they actually use in-country employees? Maybe they aren't as heartless a corporate giant as I thought. But then it became apparent that the house uses their DSL service instead, which they bought out from SBC, which is where our internet service journey started years ago, which explains in part why I have no clue which ID, password, or phone number is currently associated with internet access.

So I was transferred. And the very pleasant but clearly-reading-off-a-script woman on the other end had a remarkably Indian accent, which resulted in her having to repeat a number of questions and instructions. In the end, however, we were able to correct the silly situation.

I should note that my children, with their unerring ability to detect when I might actually need a little peace and quiet snow (as my sister used to say), have now ascended to my bedroom and are doing their best to use me as a mountain. Sherpas have nothing on them. They are also dumping faux Lucky Charms all over my sheets, which would tick me off more if I wasn't already planning on dumping them (the sheets) in the wash today.

Not that I'm sure when, because there's church this morning and then at some point this afternoon the children will stay with their grandma and I will be going out with their father to hunt down furnishings and whatnot for the pitifully bare apartment.

And now I have no idea why I started this post. Thank you, my darlings. They told me that pregnancy would affect my memory, and yes, it did, but I really had hoped that the expellation of their wee bodies from mine might allow my brain to recover some aspect of normality. What I didn't realize is that children then make it a priority to distract and destroy all vestiges of concentration their parents can muster. I think it's likely a plot to make it easier for them to trick us someday into letting them do things like, oh, going to a friend's house without checking whether there will be adult supervision. Or getting various body parts pierced.

I will therefore note that yesterday I went to some friends' house for a BBQ, which was very fun and probably saved my sanity because all three of us were CRABBY and needed some cheering up. Which J. and C. were more than happy to do. They're fabulous that way. Anyhow, once I managed to cajole my kidlets out of the house by dint of escaping them going outside and letting them follow once they realized I wasn't returning, DramaBoy happened to spot the little electric kiddy four-wheeler, and his heart was lost. I had to remind him to ask permission before hauling it out of the garage. And who would have thunk--turns out I have a little road warrior on my hands. With a touch of maniac.

No one even had to show him how to work the gears or the "gas" pedal or steer...he was off. Though his idea of steering at times involved heading full throttle into the retaining wall, laughing his head off. He also managed to take out a little remote control car. The car never had a chance.

DramaBoy spent most of the next two hours on that thing, draining one battery and doing some serious inroads on the backup. He was all over the place. We were highly entertained. The Widget and the other kids were in stitches. C. and I were practically falling over with giggles every time DB roared by, a maniacal grin on his face.

He even got the (much more cautious) Widget on there after a while. Whereupon DB turned into a marvelous big brother, helping push him along, then hopping up behind on the seat and helping steer while The Widget ran them along in stops and starts. He even made sure we switched the helmet from his head to The Widget's.

Pre-helmet transfer: also pre-Widget figuring out the "gas" pedal

Who knew?

And now it's time to go shower and get prettied up for church, so ciao and have a fabulous Sunday.

Even over in India.