Confession: I’ve yelled at the dog already today and it isn’t 8am yet.
After running back into the house numerous times AFTER getting the kids all buckled in so I can fetch the snacks I forgot, then Ellie’s water, then switching Benji’s pacey out for a clean one because he flung his to the floor in a cute baby rage because WHY AM I SITTING IN THIS CAR SEAT AND NOT GOING ANYWHERE, we’re on our way.
On our way to the gym with the kids and I just noticed I’ve got mango and oatmeal stains on my new white yoga top. I actually noticed it before I left the driveway but the thought of getting unbuckled and going back into the house ONE MORE TIME makes me hulk-green angry.
I let Ellie convince me she didn’t have to pee before we left. Because, predictably, I forgot to get her to go again, after I got Benji ready to go, until I’m already snapping her car seat buckle shut and I am inclined to, REALLY WANT to believe her. Also predictably, once we get to the end of our street she says she needs to pee. Right now.
I tell her to hold it. I. Am. Not. Turning. Around.
In sympathy, Benji poops while in his car seat. I can tell by the smell the diaper isn’t totally containing things. One problem at a time.
Once everyone has peed and Ben changed and the car seat mostly wiped off I drop them off at the day care. I debate briefly whether to actually work out. I decide I’m being ridiculous, I drove all the way here with two babies.
Of COURSE I’m NOT going to work out.
I get some free hazelnut coffee and find a seat for my frazzled, razzled self. I plug in my earphones and do what any red blooded mother with a few minutes of free time will do: I slug coffee like it’s water, check Facebook and wait for the caffeine to walk out of my veins and pull my eyelids back open.
Confession: If you drink wine from a plastic cup it doesn’t count. Everyone knows this.
Most of the time, bedtime is my favorite time of day.
I’m pretty sure Ellie is already smarter than I am.
I can’t prove it but I think Benji is the reincarnation of those water torture people and he’s experimenting with sleep deprivation models to see which one makes a sane mom go crazy faster.
Confession: Sometimes I shop on Amazon when I’m mad at Bill. The amount of things arriving on my doorstep is in parallel relationship to the level of irritation I’m feeling toward him. It isn’t very mature, and I’m not proud of it but…there you have it. The UPS guy can guess exactly how much help I’ve been getting at night taking care of Benji by the level of pain in his lower back from hauling all my extra boxes of…stuff.
I HAVE hidden in the bathroom to eat chocolate I didn’t want to share with Ellie. And then lie about it if she happens to catch me finishing the last few bites. “It’s spinach.” I mumble. But she knows. Because, as previously noted, smarter than her momma.
Well that’s it, all my confessions for the day. Or all I’m willing to admit for now.
“When I’m having a rough day with the kids I remind myself of one thing. I could always be Caillou’s mom.” Anonymous.