My Keurig just finished brewing a big cup of hazelnut deliciousness, and I had a big bowl of fruit and granola, and the unmistakable sound of cartoons and crunchy cereal was filling the family room. I padded into the office, took comfort in the leather office chair, and within a few clicks and keystrokes, a blank canvas eagerly awaited my words, like a coffee cup eagerly awaits to be filled with the delicious elixir of life for every.mom.in.the.world. (which reminds me...I need to go brew another cup)
The scene was set for a quick few minutes of stolen time, precious minutes where I could be *alone* and clear my head of the ideas I had for my post before getting ready for the day and weekend. And that's when I remembered.
I.
have.
kids.
Although they just happened, I have essentially no recollection of the timeline of the events that disrupted my writing. All I know is that it's an hour and a half past when I first saw that blank screen, and to be perfectly honest, I have no flipping clue what the hell it was that I wanted to write about when I woke up at 7:00.
What I can tell you about this morning is this:
I cut strawberries. An entire patch-worth. I poured milk into sippy cups, and more milk when those sippy cups were empty. I cleaned up a bowl of dried cereal that *magically* fell all over the floor. I chased the dogs back into the crate 2 times, because they were annoying the kids as they tried to eat--nevermind that they were the ones who let them out in the first place). I responded to a cry for help on a game on the i-Pad that left me hunched, randomly prodding colorful stimuli on the screen in the fashion of a chimpanzee trying to figure out a rubix cube, only to be told 6 embarrassing minutes later that she was 'bored' with the game and would just play something else. I fed my toddler nearly my entire bowl of fruit and granola (even though she had her own bowl of crunchy cereal--and two bowls of strawberries. Scratch that. She had one bowl of strawberries and one bowl that she graciously smeared on our couch--only the lighter colored pillows of course--before feeding to the dogs). I broke up a fight that involved one child calling another child 'poop'. Speaking of that, I put a toddler into her diaper 6 times. I chased a naked toddler around the couch 4 times. I'm currently washing 2 parts of our couch because the diaper-less toddler who has randomly decided to self-potty train this week peed *all* over them. And not just peed...the 'Mighty Mississippi' has got nothing on her. I put the toddler back into her diaper for a seventh time, only to hear the unmistakable sound of the tabs being loosened just as I settled back down into the office chair for the 85th time today. I threw my hands up in defeat and let the naked toddler win, figuring that I have enough cleaning products to take care of where ever her next accident may be (and, if not to clean up the accident, at least the fumes might give me a little bit of reprise from the madness that is my life!--I'm totally kidding...no need having my kids read this someday thinking that's how their mom sought sanity! <it's called wine, kids. wine is where mommy seeks sanity!>). I made 3 cups of coffee, and therefore went to the bathroom twice (and not on the couch, thank you very much!).
And so, two hours after I sat down to write whatever the hell it was I had to say, my body is exhausted, my mind is scrambled eggs (mmm...sounds good after giving my breakfast away), my washer signal is beeping, and my day is *only just beginning*! Oh, yeah...and my toddler is still naked. Excuse me while I go on a scavenger hunt for piddle puddles.
Happy Saturday! Here's just a few smiles to get me through...
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| no caption needed. |
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| mission: accomplished |
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| this is for any mom...not just us SAHMs!! |
or...not.
(hey kids! have you seen mommy's cleaning supplies?!)
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