Today was a tough one. Today was one of those days where you daydream of throwing in the towel, driving somewhere quiet and disappearing for a while. Well let's be honest, a long while. Like... forever a while. I'm being a little dramatic but us mommies all have had one of those days. A trial of patience and where the saying, "A face only a mother could love" came from.
It started when Marcella woke up singing the party rock song at the top of her lungs at 5:45 (yes that's a.m.) and proceeding to wake up the rest of the household. Now Adelyn has a little bit of her grumpy morning daddy in her when she wakes up and that's on a good day. She was a pill and half from the moment her feet touched the ground. By 6:15 I was already planning my escape method. Unfortunately, this was not a day I could camp out at home and ride out the storm. I had a long list of things I needed to get done and I had an extra special gut feeling I wasn't going to be receiving much help from the munchkins. And like always, I was right. I don't know why I kid myself with thinking that I can accomplish anything when my monsters are awake. That is where the beginning to my end always starts. One day I will accept this and be productive at night, but until then I will continue to have days like this...
One: Tried to push two cranky toddlers and a baby attached to my chest down a strip mall while balancing a large package. Let's just say the package is a little worse for wear, the stroller is probably permanently stained and the fine people at Office Max are all praying I never return and have now been convinced that abstinence is essential for happiness.
Two: Chick-fil-a was never meant to be worn, the kids at the mall play place now have battle wounds from Marcella's sudden need to wrestle and punch anything that moves, and the spider bite on my arm may or may not have grown to the size of a base ball.
Three: By two in the afternoon and two, three hour tantrums and door annihilating kicks later you think Adelyn would realize she will nap and I win. However, she never napped and I inadvertently definitely lost.
Four: Here is my favorite. Adelyn's first official dance class. From the moment she got in the car she started having a massive panic attack that the car seat was too tight and getting tighter and she couldn't breathe. Which turned into I don't want to do ballet (which she has been excitingly waiting for for like forever) and I am going to run away. By the time we got there she was in full blown I hate the world. But thinking I was being the good parent and forcing my introvert to experience new things even if they are scary at first, forced her little body into the dance room hoping that the sight of ballet shoes and tutus would snap her out of it, I have never been more wrong. We of course ventured in two minutes late and the other little girls were sitting quietly and paying attention. I frantically tried to juggle the baby carrier, Marcella screaming "I'm a barina" and psycho Adelyn kicking and screaming. Stumbling and feeling ridiculous, I awkwardly got Adelyn's shoes on and than my precious Elsie did what she does best. Starts giggling. But her giggles aren't innocent. They are usually a follow up of a great comforting release. And boy did she release. I had six baby ballerinas and an instructor literally staring at me as I tried to control my crazies and Elsie ripping them like there is no tomorrow. Than Marcella broke free from my clutch, ran to their little circle and starting singing party rock while Adelyn yelled about Elsie's butt. I grabbed Adelyn as fast as I could, football held her and got her to the car. I mean I just left the other two. I only have so many arms and I had to pick and chose my battles. Closed the car door with quite the crowd of moms watching and grabbed the other two apologizing the whole way out. As I came out the door, I watched Adelyn push the automatic door button, jump out of the car and run down the street screaming hysterically "All I want to be is a ballerina!" I got the other two in and proceeded to chase my three year old banshee down the street and she is fast and I am out of shape.
Wow. Just wow. The kicker and the punchline to this not funny joke of a day, the only thing getting me through was the thought that I was going to get away when Jason got home to get my hairs did and I ended up getting my bangs cut like a pumpkin pie hair cutted freak. Jason actually played a clip of simple jack from Tropic Thunder when I walked into the room. And yes it looks that bad and yes it will grow out.
But that's the great thing about living with a household of estrogen filled ladies, every second could be a new emotion. And let's pray for my sanity, it's a positive one tomorrow.
