Today was hard. Like really f*cking hard. I woke up with a really full cup from a wonderful event I went to last night. I had a packed day and the grace to handle it. So I thought. My kids had other plans.

I got up and got myself ready, made sure Momo, our elf, was moved, and looked the day clear in the eye and said “let’s do this!” First on my list was the gym. Lord I needed it. We got there, walked in, and the MINUTE we stepped into the childcare room, CJ lost it. No problem, I thought. They will handle it. Think of the scene from Trolls where Poppy is belting “nothing standing in my way, and I will knock, knock them over!”. 26 minutes later. There she comes. The childcare leader. It’s over. 26 f*cking minutes. At least I ran for 20 of those minutes knowing very well that my little drop-out would possibly cut my Poppy moments short. And he did.

I went down to get him and he was somewhat content but screamed the minute he saw me and had the infamous “Finn rash” from several minutes of crying. Damnit. The big kids looked stunned and frankly, pissed. They were busy having fun with new toys and LOL doll coloring. They both joined in the chorus of shittiness and we were ALL in a crap place. We left and went to the open gym so I could mourn the loss of yet another workout while my kids yelled at me about being hungry and bored. And then we left with me still coffee-less.

Time for dance class. We made it in one piece. We actually made it through 90% of class when S was corrected by her teacher for not listening. Play it cool, mama. Just a faux pas. 2 minutes later, she does it again. OH NO SHE DIDN’T. I ask my dear friend to take CJ and B and I open the door. See, the teacher had given a warning the last class about listening and I’m not putting up with that shit. My kids are children of educators. They will not be “that kid”. S saw the wrath of god then I came in that room. She knew. This was it. I dragged her out, gave her a pep talk, and she melted down. I gave her the opportunity to go back, but there was no recovery. Full. On. Meltdown. I’ll spare you the details, but there was screaming like an abducted child, pushing and hitting mom, cooked spaghetti noodling while getting into the car seat, and lots of hyperventilating. It. Was. Awful. I cried. In front of people. And couldn’t reason with the crazy. This all forces us to skip much needed lunch plans with good friends which added to the disaster after dance.

And then it was over. We got home. And the boys went to sleep. Likely because of emotional overload. Poor B watched his siblings lose it and he was just there for the ride. He’s gotta be the kid who loves theater when he grows up.

And then I pittied myself. (Insert post-recovery eye roll). And then my kid shocked me. She recovered and made me look like I had no bones. She cleaned her room, bathroom, and loft while I put CJ down for a nap. Then she told me she needed a nap and stayed in bed for an hour after a long talk about behavior and choices.

We had already established plans with friends and S became host of the year. The house was a disaster after, and she LITERALLY cleaned it all. While singing. I had to pinch myself. Her report card last week said that she needs help remembering to clean. And this kid was picking up stuff she didn’t even play with. With NO direction. The. House. Was. Spotless. From a 4 year old. And all was right in the world.

Here’s the thing. There is yesterday, which could have filled or emptied my cup. And then there is today which was going to happen on whatever cup I had. So here we land. And I’m better for it. Because every parent has a “today”. And every parent has a yesterday. Not every parent has a tomorrow, but for now, that’s where I’ll head. Unpittied, living the #momlife and trying to remember that life is precious. A friend who left this world way too soon taught me that, and for her, I will remember and cherish that. Especially when i see her sweet baby go to preschool each day. This day is mine. Ours. Tantrum and gym daycare dropout or not. Yesterday is a a memory, today is a reality and tomorrow is a huge gift.

Bunny Turds, Chicken Bullion, And a Potty of Pee

What on earth do these three things have in common, you ask? My dogs. That’s what. Or actually who. All in the last month.

About a month ago, B was snuggling Knox on the floor as they do often. Like hardcore snuggle fest. I was sitting at the dining table doing paperwork. I hear B whine and S say “you gotta see this!”. That’s never good. (Today, she said it and I came out to a piece of computer paper GLUED to the wall in the living room) I glance over and see B, standing there with barf all over him. Like covered from head to toe. Literally. Did he throw up? Is he sick? Or did the dog puke? Wait, what is THAT? Dog barf. Dog barf made of bunny poop. Can’t. Make. This. Up. And sweet B just looked at me and said “Mop (he calls me that 🤷🏼‍♀️) I need a wipe!” Buddy, you need far more than a wipe. Item number one: Bunny Turds.

Earlier this week, in a desperate attempt to create an activity for the kids to do while I held C on my hip and cooked dinner, I let them stack chicken bullion cubes on the table. I know, I know. It was already out and they were on the verge of permanently attaching themselves to my leg while simultaneously trying to touch everything dangerous in the kitchen. Well, B decided to throw several of the cubes and Lexi gobbled them up. Like 872,826 milligrams of sodium. Enough sodium to make a pot of soup for 20. Wait for it, wait for it… she barfed it up all over the kitchen about 10 minutes later. Which is a good reference for next time she eats a bag of m&ms. #themoreyouknow Item number 2: Chicken Bullion Cubes

Like any other second child, B is potty training himself. I bought him a bag of m&ms when he started and turns out, all he needs is a high five. Zero interest in the m&ms. S, however fully believes in being his coach and getting m&ms for all of her coaching. So we have a potty that made its way into the living room. B peed on it today and before I could clean it up, (you guessed it) Lexi ran over and did it for me. Barf. Like a figurative barf. Followed by a literal barf. By Lexi. On the rug. And before I could clean that up, she of course ate it, which sent me into dry heaves. All while burning some quesadillas for the kids for dinner. #momlifeisthebestlife Item number 3: Potty Full of Pee

So that’s my month of fun. A collection of things that the original three did to keep me on my toes. (Kate actually had a similar story last week but we have no idea what she got into because #catsaresneaky) Couple it with a vet visit that cost a half of a mortgage for an infected anal gland and you have (hopefully) completed the spring awakening for the fur babies.

Here is what I learned this month:

  • My gag reflex is not reserved for pregnancy. It’s always there. Bunny turds, kid potty turds (aka Tupperware full of s*it), you name it.
  • My kids love their dogs. Like unconditionally. Bunny turd barf or not. B snuggled back up with Knox within an hour of being barfed on.
  • Mom life is super not glamorous. But, I did get some sunny days where I could be the suburban mom AF in a sun hat and coffee mug with semi content littles running around. Though shower-less and tired, that to me, is glamorous. Oh how that concept has changed over the years.
  • The days are long (which is magnified by hubs’ ridiculous April work schedule) but these kids are growing up so quickly. I’m trying to embrace the glued walls, barf and tantrums while I can. Some day, as my wonderful neighbor, D, recently reminded me- it will be frat parties and many other things to worry about.