By no means should I be sitting here writing this post. There is a plethora-
(anyone over 30 thinks of the same thing when they hear this word…)
-of things to be done. And while I should be doing them, I’ve hit the wall.
I’m toast, peeps.
I could give you the million and one reasons why June is insanely busy. I could blame it on the end of year ceremonies, the birthday parties, the errands for teacher’s gifts, birthday gifts, BBQ supplies, etc. etc. And all of that would be true.
I could also blame it on the fact the air conditioners are not yet installed in our windows, which makes the atmosphere in our house resemble a thick, steamy pea-soup mist.
But I’ll stick with TODAY.
6:45– was shaken awake by The Captain, who, on his way out the door said, “She needs to be changed.”
Standing at my bedside, beaming, was #5, with a cheerful, “I have poopies!!”
7:30– Breakfast is made. Some coffee ingested. #3 stomps off in a huff because I have refused to allow him to wear socks with his sandals. I have now been dubbed, “Mean Mommy” (muttered under his breath).
7:50- #1 flies around in a panic, looking for her school shirt that she HAS to wear today to the school picnic. (even though, yes, she was told to have it ready). #1 proceeds to dump every.single.laundry.basket in the house to find it.
8:15- A phone call from The Captain at work, who has chipped a tooth… do I have the dental insurance card? Can I send a picture of it? Better yet, can I call around and find an appointment for him?
8:34- #1 finally finds shirt, folded in her closet, but has missed the once-a-week ride to school that my father-in-law kindly provides. So….
A- Laundry pile now looks like this:
B- I’ve got to schlepp her and the three little guys up to the school.
9:20- Scrambling eggs while on the phone with various dentists. #4 and #5 have decided to wear bathing suits; #5 has opted to go sans diaper, though I am unaware of this. (This is key later.) #6 proceeds to spit up all over the floor as I’m on the phone…
Me: “Is that vomit?
Dental Receptionist: “Excuse me? Is your husband vomiting?”
Me: “Can you PLEASE see him today??”
10:10- Breakfast is done, and I’m conveying dental details to The Captain while washing dishes. #4 has left her cup of applesauce JUUST close enough to the table edge for #6 to grab.
A splotch lands on his head JUUST before he gleefully chucks the rest through the living room.
11:00- #6’s napping, so piece of cake, right? Just tons of laundry and normal domestic stuff, and… why is #5 now naked??
Because she peed. In her diaperless bathing suit, of course.
Try asking a two year old where in the house the urine might be, and you’ll get a PLETHORA of answers, but none of them likely the correct one. So the next 20 minutes were spent trying to hunt down the source.
Which I found.
On my bedroom floor.
11:50- But it’s ok, because by the time the urine was properly scrubbed & the floor sanitized, #5 has fallen to sleep on her bedroom floor. Buck-naked, but asleep.
(Yes, I diapered her, & put her into bed. We’re not THAT savage here…)
12:45- A very cranky #6 demonstrates his new dislike of peas by flinging them one by one from his high chair. He is released so I can clean the mess, and keeps himself occupied by stirring a toy spoon in a plastic cup…
the cup that is, or WAS, filled with #4’s milk.
I scrub away. And as I scrub, #6 reminds me of his He-Man strength by lifting a chair, managing to knock down the SAME cup of milk so that the last half has once again spilled onto the floor.
Why tell you this? Because when you’re a SAHM, and people ask you, “How was your day?” or “What did you do with your day?” they don’t get it.
It’s not always the big things. Sometimes, it tons of the little tiny things that wear you down. A spilled cup of milk is no big deal. Neither is a massive pile of laundry, in and of itself.
It’s when these single instances keep coming at you in a relentless stream, leaving you with no time to stem the tide, muchless make headway.
You know; the things that your spouses/childless friends have no clue about when you try and explain why by day’s end, you have NOTHING LEFT. Or why your day seemed to possess so much, yet you feel like you accomplished so little. Or why the person’s eyes glaze over as they politely try to listen, because it’s BORING.
So, at 2:10,…. I’m a little burnt. But I’m sure they’ll go easy on me….
© Copyright 2014 Six Pack Mom, All rights Reserved. Written For: Six Pack Mom