8:50 pm—The girls are in bed! Giving
9:45 pm—Finish loading the dishwasher and sit down to give
his last feeding of the day. Judah
to bed and sit down on the sofa to relax and unwind for a bit. Catch up on my favorite blogs. Judah
10:40 pm—Get both of the girls up to go potty one last time; discover
has wet through her Pull-Up. Clean her up, strip her sheets and find a clean blanket for her bed. Eden
starts crying. Go in to try to calm him down, which proves to be completely impossible. Judah
11:45 pm—Decide just to feed the
little demon child poor little guy and put him back in bed.
12:08 am—Crawl into bed. Pass out cold.
Roughly 7:00 am—Awaken to the sound of my alarm and my two daughters fighting in the living room. Get up and get their breakfast ready.
decides that all she needs to eat for breakfast is orange juice, half of an orange, and exactly three bites of peanut butter toast. Tell her she’ll be hungry soon, but she refuses to eat any more. Eden
says she’s hungry. Eden
|Sissy is excited to go to the Children's Museum!|
|Eden is excited too!|
8:15 am—Get the kiddos dressed and ready to hit the Children’s Museum with a friend. Turn on PBS so I can take a shower in peace.
8:30 am—Get sidetracked gathering up all the laundry and taking it over to the second bathroom/laundry holding area. Notice a couple of stains on clothes so I decide to Shout them out.
9:00 am—Realize it’s 9:00 am and we have to leave in roughly 30 minutes. Take a mega-fast shower and get ready to go.
9:25 am—Toss diapers and snacks into
’s backpack to take with us to the museum and head out the door. Eden
has pooped his diaper. Go back inside and change him while assuring the girls that yes, we are still going to the Children’s Museum. Judah
9:34 am—Pull out of the apartment parking lot and hear
in the backseat mentioning that she’s still hungry. Ignore her. Eden
9:52 am—Arrive downtown and start looking for a parking spot. I have somehow forgotten that I need to have change for the meters, so I go to the parking garage. It’s full. Of course it is. Ask the girls to please stop asking if I know where I’m going and suggest they play the quiet game.
10:01 am—We are now officially late. I drive a few blocks down to park in a different garage and get up to the fourth level before finding an open spot. Reconsider the parking garage and decide whether or not I really care if I get a ticket for not plugging the meter.
10:08 am—Beg the nice man at the garage booth to break my $20 bill and give me quarters for the meter. Tell him we’re going to the Children’s Museum and I’ve completely forgotten any change. He laughs in a very understanding way and I decide he must be married and listen to his wife tell him stories like this all the time.
10:15 am—Finally arrive at the Children’s Museum, pay $22.47 to get in, spot our friends and get our play on.
|Astro--er, Adorable Judah!|
wets her pants. Apologize to the museum workers and tell a sobbing Adaleine that we’ll come back another time. Walk back to the van with a crying Adaleine, waddling Eden Eden, and sleeping in tow. Judah
10:56 am—Undress Eden at our parking spot, which just so happens to be smack dab in front of a barber shop. One where the chairs point toward the window so that you can look out at the street and see a lady trying to load one sobbing, one sopping, and one sleeping kid into her vehicle. Freaking awesome.
11:14 am—Head home and decide today is a bust. Let’s just call it what it is and move on.
There’s a brief snippet of how being a mom can be completely exhausting. Now, I know that I am beyond blessed to be entrusted with three healthy and amazing children. It goes without saying that I love them all dearly and will do everything in my power to protect them.
But sometimes it really doesn’t do any good to hear some lady talk about how amazing it is to be a mom. Because the truth is, sometimes it’s just hard. Sometimes all you can do is count down the minutes until bedtime because you can’t listen to any more whining about how so-and-so doesn’t like broccoli, or someone is staring at her sister, or someone’s bed is not “comfety.”
Sometimes you just want that moment of silence where you celebrate the fact that you’ve survived another day. No one has been seriously hurt, everyone is present and accounted for, and they all know that you love them (but if they get out of bed again you’re going to be very disappointed.)
And then you can watch Footloose without having to feel guilty. Those dishes will be there tomorrow. And maybe you’ll have a more successful day. After all, it’s school pajama day. What could possibly go wrong? : )
|Eden has Pajama Day at preschool, so Sissy and Judah may or may not rock their PJs today too. What? They're clean! : )|