i knew it wasn’t gonna be a good day 30 minutes after getting out of bed. for those of y’all that are new, that’s approximately 5 minutes til 6 in the a.m. having run out of wet wipes last night, my 2 youngest children decided to poop simultaneously. the older of the 2 in her underwear. this was after i brushed my teeth but not quite before i could get the coffee brewing. and then i realized that i was out of clean wash cloths (you know, the next best thing after wet wipes). then my 4 year old son runs to the bathroom and says he has to poop. he still needs me to wipe him sometimes so he summoned me. no, wait, i’m not through. yes, i am. no, wait, i’m sorry i’m not. okay, mama. wait. at which point my daughter sneezes and desperately needs a nose wipe, “wait! don’t wipe that there.” okay, really i’m ready now mama.” after feeding my children left over pizza for breakfast my 4 year old son comes in the house, oh so proud, and says, “you wanna see what’s in my shoe?” “sure i do,” said with the appropriate amount of excitement. he then proceeds to take off his shoe and dump out onto my newly mopped floor (this is only the 3rd time it’s been mopped since we moved in) what i swear to you was a full cup of dirt. why?! and, yes, i did yell, “wait! don’t you dare take off that other shoe!” and so my so sweet boy then starts picking up the dirt to put back in his shoe, “so you don’t have to clean it mama.” argh. my second son is so clumsy, bless his heart. oh. my. goodness. he dropped a bowl of yellow jello today. bumped his head on the table. on the doorknob. on the bed. my oldest, while yelling at his younger brother to not un-pause little house on the prairie wildly waved his chocolate ice cream cone all around the table. chair. wall. floor. and my girl sneezed again. and my little one had, count them, 3 more poopy diapers.
…and speaking of that little angel – he’s awakened, yet again not in my arms, and hails me hungrily. and increasingly loudly. so instead of rambling on about my messy, tiring, calling my husband at work, “will you please come home early so that i can run away to the pharmacy where it is quiet and there are few little people that make massive messes and retrieve my sanity pills” kind of day – i’ll take this as my sign to be done with this day and slip quietly into interrupted sleep for the first time in 16 hours.
i bid you a good night.
