Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The sock

Let me just start this by saying, I love my family. I love my children, husband and all that is my life.....for the most part. I chose this path, the parenting full time, kid chasing, laundry doing, meal cooking, potty training, nose wiping path that is my life. Fast forward 7 1/2 years to the present...You know when you have finally reached that point in your consciousness where everything becomes a blur? Noises dull, vision gets fuzzy? Patience is reaching that very thin line between holding it together and LOSING IT! I am here, in this space about to lose it... over a sock.
I have always been good at keeping all the balls in the air, juggling with ease. Lately, due to health restrictions, over commitment and general all around craziness on my part, they are falling down around me. The casualties are of course my kids. While desperately trying to complete the all encompassing bedtime routine, I think for me it will be "death by sock".
Picture this, crazy disheveled mom running in and out of each child's bedroom trying to get them all dressed, washed, brushed and in their beds. Put one in, another comes out. Put that one in, the third comes out. I'm pretty sure at one point they were taunting me on purpose just to see how many times I would do it! This is the stuff that a Supernanny episode is made of. Trying to keep my composure, I tell the oldest boy "put your dirty clothes in the hamper". He is quick to comply out of sheer fear that I may lose it at any moment, "yes mom". While hearing the same question from my 3 year old for the 47th time I quickly tell my older son he missed a sock. Can you please come and get it? "yes mom". "Yes honey" I reply to my 3 year old again as he continues on his rant about when will he ever get to visit his dad's work because he has never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever (you get the point) been there. I trip again over what seems to be the same toy that has followed me all the way upstairs (because I was tripping on it downstairs too) for what has to be the fifth time. I try to repress the incredibly vulgar word that is about to leave my lips and would clearly not be suitable for my little one's ears. While looking down at my injury I see that damn sock again! Really? How does he keep missing it?
And of course I choose now to try and solidify the lesson of following through on what mommy tells you to do. It would have been so much easier to just pick the thing up myself but if I do anything right tonight I WILL get some follow through! Bellowing at this point, "For the love of God, would you please pick up this sock!" "Yes mom".
Heading to my daughter's room, I use every ounce of strength I can muster to say a loving "goodnight" and give kisses. And of course I have to give the "I'm sorry" speech, "mommy is tired and lost her temper" yada, yada, yada. Home stretch people, I'm almost done. No more "I have to go potty, I need water, you didn't hug me, cover me please, I have a cough, read me a story, let me read YOU a story, Mom where do dinosaurs live?" I'm done, I can hear that glass of wine calling my name. I quietly close her door, an almost smile on my face because I did it . I managed to do the bedtime routine without completely flying off the handle. As I walk down the hallway I look down and next to the laundry hamper I see, wait, that can't be, I must be hallucinating.....the.... sock? "For all that is good and holy are you freaking kidding me?" How hard is it to complete the task of taking your dirty clothes all of 6 feet to the laundry hamper that is big enough to hold your whole body! It's not like you can't see it! You were sitting in it not 30 minutes ago pretending you were a hamster or some kind of rodent! That damn sock, sitting there, staring at me...taunting me...this rant of course is only going on in my head.
I calmly turn to my son and ask him very slowly "will you PLEASE finish what I have asked you to do and put your clothes in. the. hamper. PICK UP THE SOCK! ..."yes mom".

Whew, mama needs a vacation people.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Costco

The difference between a man and a woman at Costco....it's unmeasurable! Costco with three kids on a good day isn't something I would look forward to, and I LOVE Costco. I honestly have to say I have a sick obsession with the fabulous warehouse playground. When it comes to taking my kids? I would much rather repeat the incredible experience of lying practically upside down in a dentist chair to get a filling replaced. Did I mention that I'm claustrophobic? For some reason the dentist thought it was necessary to tilt my chair to the farthest backward position to reach my tooth, leaning over me so closely I could barely make out one pin hole in the ceiling tile. Really? Personal space buddy! But I digress...this was supposed to be about Costco.

The husband and I thought it would be a good idea to get our last minute, very important, had to be done Costco trip out of the way on a weeknight...after dinner....with three kids....mere minutes before bedtime. Brilliant, I know. We have a completely different take on what it means to get Costco done. I with my immense experience in navigating the giant, overstimulating store had a plan. Apparently, so did he. "Looking around", " I just want to look around" he says. Really? With three kids, stuffed into the giant cart with barely enough space to put groceries? Screaming, flailing, grabbing, climbing, escaping? This sounds like a situation conducive to browsing? Of course this made for a very pleasant evening...right.

After all was said and done, and my melt down of epic proportions was finished, I think we have come to an agreement. When he feels like "browsing" and all I need is diapers and wipes? We go our separate ways and agree that shopping at Costco on a school night..after dinner...minutes before bedtime...not so much a good idea.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Pumpkin Pie

I often use a food analogy when trying to explain things to my husband. His mind works better that way and usually I can get my point across. I've recently decided that sex for a mom is like "Pumpkin Pie". A mom's day consists of little people touch, pulling on, yelling at, drooling over, puking on (among other things) all day long. When I finally fall into bed at the end of a day, the thought of being close to another human being for even a moment drives me batty!

Now to the pumpkin pie analogy. You know how you feel after a really fabulous, yet usually overfilling Thanksgiving dinner? Next comes what we all expect and most of us love...pumpkin pie. Normally the thought of it would make our mouths water, our eyes big with anticipation. As soon as autumn hits, you dream about that wonderful staple of the season. But inevitably, every year, you finish that really overwhelming meal and the hostess for the evening parades out with much excitement I might add,... that dessert. You love pumpkin pie, you even at times crave pumpkin pie. At this point in time, the thought of pumpkin pie makes you want to throw up. Literally...throw up...

A mom's reality.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Comet and Toilet Paper

As I start to unload the dishwasher for the hundredth time, my husband very anxiously asks "honey, what can I do to help"? Give the kids a bath I say, easy enough right? Not in my house. After what seems like only a few minutes I hear.."Honey! Help!!! Everything is fine, but help!"

Scene: One child standing in the tub that happens to be FILLED with mushy toilet paper. She is screaming "I don't want it on me!" Another child standing next to the tub, half dressed about to get in. A husband half holding the third child who is covered in Comet cleanser. The smell of the chemical hits you like a ton of bricks, it's EVERYWHERE! The husband in a panic stricken voice with, lets face it..the fear of GOD in his eyes is looking at you, pleading with you to help. His one audible comment.."I can explain how this happened".

After I go into supermom mode and assess the situation, I spring into action. With one swift movement I remove the littlest child's clothes while hurdling the ginormous pile of cleaner that is now covering my bathroom floor. I lift the second child over the mess to my husband who now looks like one of those onlookers at a crash scene. Wide eyes, mouth open, utter confusion. The first child, who in my opinion may have started this whole fiasco in the first place, is screaming at me. She is trying to avoid all the floating pieces of toilet paper like little piranha trying to eat her alive. I quickly shower her off and scoot her out of the bathroom so that I can begin the cleanup.

While on my hands and knees trying to decide if I should wet it all down or vacuum it up, I find myself thinking "does this really happen to people? It must because it's happening to me right now. How did I get this crazy life? Who are these kids, where did they come from and how was it decided that I am qualified to be in charge of them?" So in the midst of an unscheduled cleaning of my bathroom floor, in my head, my blog was born. People need to know that this stuff really happens, that I am not a crazy person. I am just a mom trying to navigate through this thing called parenting. Oh and another thing, Comet cleans a vinyl floor like no other! Who knew??

Once the craziness died down, the kids were cleaned up, the bathroom was restored to it's normal appearance..I went to check on my husband to make sure he wasn't traumatized. In true form, he assured me he currently had things under control again and that it was ok for me to go back downstairs and take some time for myself. His final statement to me as I left the room?? Not "Oh honey, I'm so sorry" "Thank you so much for helping me handle this" "You are an amazing mother and wife, and I could never achieve the greatness that is you!" No, his exact words were...wait for it..."Uh, I hope this doesn't ruin my chances for tonight?"

My life as mom.