I am lying in bed last night. Instead of going to sleep like a normal human being, I am thinking of all the things I need to do tomorrow and of the things I did not get done. I should be getting some shut eye because it won’t be long and my nearly fourteen month old, who still is not sleeping through the night like other people’s normal children do (yeah, they like to rub it in) will be WIDE AWAKE and will fall magically asleep once he lays bewteen Mommy and Daddy and proceeds to kick one of us. So, who was the lucky victim tonight? Luckily, it was my husband.
It’s morning. Sleeping-in was thrown out the window many years ago so we rise at the break of dawn, or before that depending upon when the little monkeys decide to wake Mommy. Because, you know, Mommy’s don’t need sleep. EVER.
Kids are fed, I have my coffee–which I desperately try to drink while it is still hot, which hardly ever happens because someone always needs me or is into something they are not supposed to be into.
I contemplate cloning myself. I need like three of me.
My son has an “explosion” and when changing him, he decides to grab a handful of the mess and proceeds to smear it all over the clean quilt I just laid on the bed not two days ago. Of course, why not? He’s a mess. I’m a mess. The bed’s a mess…my home is a mess.
And you know what?
I. DON’T. CARE.
At least today I don’t. Sometimes, I just need to let things go and take a moment to breathe. Why? Because I cannot control everything and I need to realize that my home is not going be like Martha Stewart’s (darn you and your perfectness, Martha, putting all mother’s to shame)!
I wish it was though…
Fastforward. My step-daughter says, “I made my bed and cleaned my room. Come look!” I walk back to her room. Her bed is made. Her room is clean(ish) and her entire room has been rearranged! Yep. Why not? Because our life is like the Domino Effect. We battle for about thirty seconds because one of her new things to say is, “I will,” and “almost”until she finally gets up and does as she told, proceeded by a “Why?” All this why she lounges on her bed.
I have no clue where children conjure up these irritating responses. I wonder if they gather on the playground and have a “think tank” and brainstorm ideas to annoy their parents.
“Why? Because I said so, that’s why.” And, almost? Almost means something is part way done. Saying it before you do something doesn’t make sense. Kids. -_-
And, my sweet son has hit the “exploring” stage. He explores the DVD shelf, the book shelves, picture frames, knick knacks, laundry, toilet paper, his sister’s stuff, our stuff, the toilet, you name it, he “explores” it. So this Momma is on her toes, constantly. And, he has a super short attention span so he is bored with any toy I place in front of him 5-10 minutes later (if I’m lucky). And, it’s illegal an inhumane to cage children, so…
It’s afternoon and it dawns on me: I never got what I wanted out for dinner. Drat! It’s going to be a hotdog and can of chili night tonight, and I don’t even feel like cooking that. And when Hubby calls and asks me what’s for dinner or how has my day been, it takes everything in me to not want to scream.
Needless to say, I have had it.
I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my family. But sometimes, I need a moments peace, too. I wonder how Carol Brady did it or June Cleaver?
And I cannot even imagine what Mrs. Duggard goes through. How does she keep from going insane? Or maybe she already has and just doesn’t show it?