Today is a (somewhat) typical day. I say somewhat because no day is really typical. You'd think that being a stay-at-home parent would mean that every day was the same, but it's anything but.
I just looked in the mirror. Bad idea. Haven't showered since Sunday night. Seriously. I haven't found enough energy and time coinciding to shower in the last 52 hours. I had planned on doing that this morning at 5am (my "normal" bathing time), but all three kids came down with a massive head cold and I was room hopping all night. I'm lucky only one of them ended up in bed with us and kicking me in the face.
I've been up for an hour and a half and am just now sitting down to eat breakfast. Breakfast for me is a loosely applied term referring to food that is eaten in the morning. Today it is toast with butter, cinnamon and sugar. If I am lucky, I'll get to finish both slices of bread before the kids' radar goes off and they realize I am sitting down and eating. Even though they already had pancakes this morning, mom's food always seems to be on the menu.
My coffee, which was poured about an hour ago, is cold, but I'm drinking it anyway. Filling my cup with a warm liquid would for sure instigate some sort of crisis that would only let it sit on the counter for another hour.
And then it happens, just as I predicted. I hear a sound, so I get up to check it out. My daughter has once again broken into our bedroom and dumped all the cat food into their water, then dumped it on the floor. This is becoming a weekly routine despite the time-outs, taps on the butt and locked doors (she's a master lock-picker at the age of 2). I get up and scold her, then close and lock the bedroom door - again. She follows me out to the kitchen and having used her spidey-sense, realized I was in the process of eating - without her! How dare I! I must now share my food or face the consequences.
Wait, what's that she keeps saying? Is that the world "pee?" Yep. Sure is. Underwear are soaked. Time to change, the first time of many today, I'm sure. She's potty training and some days are good, but some are bad. I yell at her to get off the table, with her pee soaked pants and all.
Oops, turns out the pee-soaked pants were also full of poop.
Meanwhile, the baby is still sitting in the high chair, full of pancake and ready to evacuate. Since I am obviously busy cleaning up poop, the baby starts to scream for my attention.
And of course, right on queue, the guy is here to fix the windshield on the truck. As I close the door behind me to lock out the screaming kids, I notice that he won't make eye contact with me and my greasy hair.
Back inside, I clean up the toddler and get new pants on her, clean up the baby and the high chair, and let my son go over to the neighbors to play (and by let, I mean ushered out the door with an enthusiastic wave of my hands).
For one spare moment, all the kids are clean and the house is quiet. I plop down on the floor with my two girls, who are innocently playing with their dolls. The giant stuffed bear is making an excellent pillow and I close my eyes for a moment. It's 9:30am. I've been awake for 2 hours and I'm exhausted. I have another 12 hours to go. I have dishes, laundry and dirty floors calling my name, not to mention my stinky B.O. which is even starting to bother me. But for one quiet moment, I lay down and try not to concentrate on my back pain or to do list. Instead I watch my girls play and realize how happy they are.
This. This one moment makes it all worth it.
And in just a few moments, the next round of chaos will start, and I'll still be exhausted but I'll be ready and I'll handle it because I can.
{By the way, if this blog keeps any of you from either coming to visit or from letting your kids play with my kids, I understand and I take no offense to it. We really should be out in the middle of nowhere and sequestered from society.}
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