Have you ever had one of those days that you basically want to put a f'ing gun to your head by 8 am? Well, I've had two of those in a row. The kids are driving me N.U.T.S.!
I've been feeling really good for the past week and a half and the weather has been gorgeous so I've been spending a lot of time outside. I've been planting flowers galore, cleaning up the yard a bit, and playing with the kids in the yard. Mama is happy so everyone is happy.
Problem is, the more time you GIVE to my little ones, the more they seem to demand. Which brings us to Monday, weekend's over, mommy needs to stop putting off doing her chores, and must get down to some serious catching up. Tell that to them. I swear if I stop short, one of them is going to lose their head up my butt. I can't turn around without tripping over somebody. I'm not getting anything accomplished because they want this, and that, and this, and that, every two seconds it's, "Mommy I'm thirsty, mommy I'm hungry, mommy wipe my hiney, mommy come play with me." And though I KNOW I've given them more than enough attention lately, I still get the guilts when I tell them they need to go play and let me get my jobs done.
Yesterday afternoon I had about all I could stand. I hated to do it, but I told Mr. Schmitty he was going to have to take T. and R. with him to W.'s baseball game. I needed to get a hundred things done and there was no way it was getting done at the rate I had been going. Plus, truly, if he didn't get everyone out of here, I really was considering shoving my head in the oven.
They all packed up and that's when I heard it. Quiet. Sheer silence. It was wonderful. I got the bills caught up, school paperwork done, my business bookkeeping is up to date, I even drove to the bank and then the post office to mail the bills and an order to a customer.
I did this all in about 90 minutes, see what you can get done by yourself?
The crew wasn't due back for another 90 minutes, give or take, so I thought, is it possible? Do I get some
me time too? Just as I was about to jump for joy, I see the minivan pull in the driveway.
"T. has to poop."
Of course he does. And out piles T. and R. whining, "Mommy we're tired. Mommy we're cold. Mommy we miss you."
Calgon......take me away!!