Being your sister can be hard.
The times when I feel huggy and you don’t want me to touch you. You’ve never been a huggy person but sometimes I just have to. Get used to it.
The times when I just want to talk. I ask you how you’re doing or how you feel about certain things and you give me the one word answer. I’m not looking for one word, man. Really.
The times when I ask you to come over and hang out. I know I have 3 kids and I know my house can be a minefield of toys, but I promise adult conversation between the diapers and breaking up fights over those toys in the floor.
Being your sister can be easy.
The times I need some help from someone a little stronger than your average girl, I can call you and you’re there, eventually. You move slow, what can I say?
The times you text me to remind me that it's my best friend's birthday because she follows you on MySpace and you thought I'd need the reminder. (Thanks, BTW.)
The times when I need to borrow a good camera and you’re the only person in the family who owns one. You never hesitate to let me run off with it and all its various parts after trying to explain what the big lens is for and how to get it to take the kind of pictures you know I’ll take.
The times when I want someone to gripe to and no one else is around, you will sit quietly and listen to me for a little while and then make a smartass comment to make me laugh. After that, I’m good to go.
Being your sister is easy compared to being your brother’s sister. That’s hell and I know it’s hell for you to be his brother, too. I’m sorry you have to miss him right along beside me.
I’m really glad to be able to be your big sister. You really are a great little guy (even though you’re taller than me you’re still my little brother).
I love you, man. And don’t say “Yea.” or “You, too.” either, Punk.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Somewhere in the middle...
It slipped in somewhere in the middle. That same ol' fear that starts the shutting down process. I've been burned. Severely.
I'm so tired of being tender to the touch. When do the old scars stop opening up to wounds that won't stop bleeding?
Why am I so willing to cling to any small hope like a life raft? or completely let go and pretend the water isn't drowning me?
Does everything have to be all or nothing? Why do I press so hard when there's a good chance that I'll get pushed back?
Where is the one who will press me just as hard as I press him? Who throws their heart out for the taking and is delighted when someone wants it? REALLY wants it?
Let down your guard. I won't break you if you won't break me either.
I'm so tired of being tender to the touch. When do the old scars stop opening up to wounds that won't stop bleeding?
Why am I so willing to cling to any small hope like a life raft? or completely let go and pretend the water isn't drowning me?
Does everything have to be all or nothing? Why do I press so hard when there's a good chance that I'll get pushed back?
Where is the one who will press me just as hard as I press him? Who throws their heart out for the taking and is delighted when someone wants it? REALLY wants it?
Let down your guard. I won't break you if you won't break me either.
Monday, March 28, 2011
I don't want to be Mommy...
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means that I have to hold you down for a doctor to stick a needle in you. Even though it will make you feel better, the pain I feel in that moment breaks me.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to say no to one more cookie before dinner time because to be honest all I want is one more cookie, too.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means feeling you push me away when I try to hug you. All I wanted was a hug and a chance to breathe your sweet baby smell in for just a second.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means having to hear a doctor tell me that you have a problem and it won’t get better and you’ll always have that piece of foreign matter in your head because without it you’ll die. I can’t lose you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to let you be independent because I know why you have to be independent and I don’t ever want to leave you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means consoling you after some unworthy boy breaks your heart.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means consoling you after some unworthy girl breaks your hearts either.
I don’t want to be Mommy when my heart hurts for the pain I know your future holds. I hurt for the things your dad doesn’t even know he’s missing and doesn’t know what missing those things will mean to you in the future.
I don’t want to be Mommy when I have to hear you cry for your favorite bear because your dad was careless enough to leave it at his house 3 hours away where I can’t get it for you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means having to say goodbye in the morning and hearing you cry for me because I have to go to work and I can’t stay and play with you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means one day you’ll tell me you hate me, even if you really don’t mean it.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to be here missing you when you’re there missing me, too.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to say no to one more cookie before dinner time because to be honest all I want is one more cookie, too.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means feeling you push me away when I try to hug you. All I wanted was a hug and a chance to breathe your sweet baby smell in for just a second.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means having to hear a doctor tell me that you have a problem and it won’t get better and you’ll always have that piece of foreign matter in your head because without it you’ll die. I can’t lose you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to let you be independent because I know why you have to be independent and I don’t ever want to leave you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means consoling you after some unworthy boy breaks your heart.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means consoling you after some unworthy girl breaks your hearts either.
I don’t want to be Mommy when my heart hurts for the pain I know your future holds. I hurt for the things your dad doesn’t even know he’s missing and doesn’t know what missing those things will mean to you in the future.
I don’t want to be Mommy when I have to hear you cry for your favorite bear because your dad was careless enough to leave it at his house 3 hours away where I can’t get it for you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means having to say goodbye in the morning and hearing you cry for me because I have to go to work and I can’t stay and play with you.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means one day you’ll tell me you hate me, even if you really don’t mean it.
I don’t want to be Mommy when it means I have to be here missing you when you’re there missing me, too.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
A day in the life...
5:00 am: Alarm clock goes off. I roll over, groan, smack the snooze button.
5:10 am: Alarm clock goes off again. I roll over and turn the first alarm off.
5:30 am: The second alarm on the alarm clock goes off. (WTF is with all these alarms? I'm trying to sleep here. Sheesh...) I smack snooze, roll over even though I know this will make me late but I was just up at 2 am doing a breathing treatment that took 45 minutes to complete from start to finish.
6:00 am: I sit up in bed after having turned the alarm clock off and almost falling back to sleep. I grab my phone and text my mom to tell her I'm up because she's my alarm clock back-up. (I love you, Mom!)
6:15 am: I slowly and rather clumsily fall out of bed and walk with my eyes mostly closed to the bathroom. I turn on the water and wait a couple minutes on it to get hot. While I'm waiting, I delete all the junk emails off my phone.
6:35 am: I'm out of the shower, possibly without shaving my legs because really? Every day? Why? No one's seeing my legs but me right now anyways. *insert eye roll here*
7:00 am: I'm mostly dressed and wandering down the hallway trying to avoid stubbing my toe on a toy or running into a wall in my still half-asleep state of mind. I usually only succeed in one of these goals. Today I didn't stub my toe but I did bounce off the door frame on my way into the kitchen.
7:05 am: I finally have my earbud in place and connected to my phone so I call my mom to chat to her as she's getting ready for work. It's basically the only time I get to talk to her during tax season. (CPA's are so overworked this time of year. I love y'all!)
7:10 am: I open my boys' bedroom door, flip on the light, and watch them cover their heads like little vampires. Sometimes I get a good morning from my little morning boy but his brother is guaranteed to only groan and try to hide under his blankets. I get their clothes for the day out of their dressers and then my morning boy, Noggin, follows me down the hall to get dressed.
7:15 am: I open my daughter's bedroom door, flip on the light, and watch her either cover her eyes if she's face up or just completely ignore me if she's face down. Either way she's not getting up yet. I get her brother dressed as he asks me about every. single. thing. on the walls, the floor, the changing table, and the dresser. He likes to talk in the morning. a lot. My mom chuckles in my ear because she can hear him asking me a million questions and she thinks it's hilarious to see me getting a dose of a child as talkative as I was when I was little. (I'm on to you, Mom. Just so you know...)
7:22 am: I go back to retrieve the smaller of my twin boys, Screech, who earns his nickname by doing exactly that all the way down the hall to get dressed because he is not at all happy about it. He is NOT a morning person. I'm pretty sure he would sleep until at least 10am, if not noon, every day if his brother didn't wake him up early on the weekends. I get him dressed and he either goes to the living room to bounce on the couch or he lays in the floor and throws a temper tantrum because he didn't get to wear his snow boots in 60 degree weather. (Reminder: put snow boots in closet out of sight of small, ferociously angry little boy.)
7:27 am: I go over and roll my girl across her bed to get her close enough to pick up as she claws the blankets, the stuffed animals, and the bed rail to try to keep from being lifted out of her nice warm bed. She whines and fusses and tries to kick me in the gut as I'm trying to change her diaper and get her dressed. There is much growling and fussing coming from me too when her little heel makes a connection to my boob. (How do they always manage to kick my boobs? I mean, there have to be rules about this kind of thing. Moms should get longer arms or something.)
7:35 am: Everyone's dressed and I'm carrying the diaper bag, 3 coats, a blanket, a stuffed puppy, and one still angry little girl into the kitchen. I sit down the coats, puppy, and hostile kid (who screams bloody murder at this point) and pick up my purse and take it and the diaper bag out to start the car so it will warm up, without my coat. Did I mention it's cold outside in the mornings right now? Well, it is and my little girl doesn't appreciate it when I've been outside and my hands are cold and I come back in and pick her up.
7:40 am: Meds time. Inhalers for both boys, vitamins for all three, and Zyrtec for all three because allergies and asthma don't mix well. If anyone is sick, this med schedule gets very complicated very fast.
7:45 am: Start loading kids in the car while telling Screech if he doesn't get that vitamin chewed up he's going to have to spit it out. He chews a little and tries to continue sucking on the vitamin. I fuss more and he finally gets it chewed up about one second before he has to either spit it out and get in the car or swallow it. I get everyone buckled in. Climb into my seat. I'm kinda sweating by this point. I thought it was colder than this outside a few minutes ago?
7:53 am: I pull into the daycare parking lot after listening to the boys whine because the train disappeared from view before we got there. (I have mixed feelings about the train.) I unbuckle the boys, go around to the other side and get the diaper bag from the passenger seat, my daughter from the back seat, and then go back around and help the boys out of the car while holding my little girl (who's not so darn little anymore) and the diaper bag. Before I can get Screech out of the car I have to tell him to put back whatever it is he's picked up that he can't take in with him while simultaneously keeping his brother from running off and his sister from slipping out of my grip. Juggling, I'm a master at it.
8:03 am: I'm late. I'm late. I'm late again. I run out of the daycare, strap myself in as I'm backing out of my parking place and try to hustle to work. Putting my name badge around my neck and my work keys in my pocket as I'm driving.
8:07 am: I'm late but I'm here. I hurry to my office and hope my boss hasn't gotten here yet. He's usually later than I am so it works itself out. Luckily today, he's late, too. I go to my office and boot up the computer and get started on making myself look busy. Then I actually do get busy.
9:30am: I realize I'm thirsty so I go get a drink and then chat with a coworker about the breathing treatment I had to do last night and how bad middle of the night wake ups suck. I go back to my office and kill more trees in the name of inventory control.
12:00 noon: The whistle goes off and I realize that rumbling sound is my stomach growling. I grab my phone and call my mom to see if she's going to go to lunch with me. She's not. It's tax season. I hate tax season because I always lose my lunch buddy.
12:10 pm: I enter *insert big retail store name here* and go to all four corners of the store to retrieve three items. I know the math doesn't figure on that but they keep moving crap and I can't find a damn thing in there anymore. I curse under my breath when I figure out the only register open is the one with the old lady that likes to look at and question every item you're purchasing. I wish they'd retire her old ass already. It's time for some fresh meat behind the register because if she asks me one more time why I like a particular smell of baby wash more than the original baby wash, I might have to smack her.
12:30 pm: I'm in the drive thru line at the pharmacy. Thought I was gonna say a fast food place, didn't you? No, I can't get there this quickly. It doesn't work that way. I'm picking up refills on inhalers and more diaper goo because I swear if they ever stop mixing that stuff, I'm going to cry. *all hail the diaper goo makers because they've saved my kids' butts more than once*
12:50 pm: I'm now in line at the grossest fast food restaurant in town because it's also the fastest and I'm almost out of time for lunch. I get behind the guy who is ordering for 12 people at his office. I curse loudly in my car with the window up now because really? Why me? Just, why me?
1:05 pm: I pull back into work. I'm late from lunch and I still haven't managed to eat more than three stale fries. I'm a little bit harried and annoyed at this point. I rush in and clock back in and then try to sneak back to my office with my lunch. I sit at my desk and type with a stale fry in one hand and half a burger in the other hand as I leave greasy fingerprints all over my keyboard.
1:25 pm: My boss walks in my office just as I cram the last quarter of my burger in my mouth so I can type with both hands. I look at him awkwardly and continue typing as I chew furiously and swallow an entirely too large bite of burger so I can ask what he needs. He looks at me with a look that crosses between amused to disgusted and asks me to cover for another area tomorrow which will put me further behind on my own work but I agree because I'm that girl that agrees to almost anything. *facepalm*
5:06 pm: I have been working crazily when all of a sudden I realize everyone else is gone and no one stopped in to ask me if I was going home sometime today. I'm late leaving now. There's one more thing to get fussed at for tomorrow. Oh, well. I grab my coat and purse, turn off the radio station that's been playing the same three songs all damn day long, shut down my computer, turn off the small heater that might as well be the only heat source in the building because I freeze my ass off in here all day long. I hurry out the door after clocking out only to realize it's pouring rain and I left my umbrella in my office.
5:07 pm: I'm in the car, turning on the heat and wiping the water off my glasses so I can see to drive. I'm soaked and I'm cold but I wasn't going back up to the third floor just for an umbrella.
5:12 pm: I pull in at the daycare after waiting on some moron to turn left at the bottom of the hill with three lanes of traffic coming at him. I'm still cursing under my breath as I climb out of the car and then I realize that the owner is behind me because he snuck around the back of his car as I was getting out of mine. He says hi and scares the shit out of me then laughs and jogs off in the rain to the door as I glare at his back.
5: 35 pm: I get the kids loaded in the car after having to put two pairs of the kid's shoes back on them before I could take them outside because heaven forbid that my kids leave their shoes on for more than 10 minutes. As soon as I sit down in my seat and get my soaking wet coat off, it quits raining outside. Someone's screwing with me. I just know it.
5:45 pm: I pull in at home and see that the paper I didn't order has been thrown in the middle of my driveway at some point and is now in a bag full of water and soaking wet. I drive over top of it and pull under the carport, thankful for that one thing that keeps the kids from being soaked because it's raining again. After I get all the kids, the diaper bag, the blanket, the puppy that was forgotten until she made it inside the house and is now standing at the door screaming at me to bring it to her, and the various art work projects covered in macaroni and something that smells like pudding into the house, I go back to retrieve the soaked paper from the driveway and check the mail. I'm soaked again.
6:00 pm: I start dinner as my daughter clings to my leg and begs for one more cookie or goldfish or gummies or anything she sees in my hand whether it's cooked or not. Once the hamburger is defrosting, I go start a DVD for the kids that only one of them will actually sit and watch while one of the boys jumps on the furniture and runs up and down the hall dragging out all his toys and my girl lays in the kitchen floor and cries because I won't let her ruin her appetite before dinner.
7:00 pm: I sit the kids down to eat or only partially eat dinner. I make my plate only to have to sit it down and go back for more bread/macaroni and cheese/green beans/sippy cup refills. As I sit down again, they decide they're done eating so I'm back up cleaning off hands and faces and shirts and pants so that they can go back to the living room and yell at me to come and restart the DVD.
7:45 pm: I sit down and eat my cold dinner, chug my glass of milk, and start cleaning up everyone's plates and cups and booster seats and the high chair and the floor and the wall and the stove. I load the dishwasher and empty the scraps and hand wash the pots and pans.
8:30 pm: I have now gathered up three sets of pajamas (which I had to go down to the dryer and get because I can never seem to fold the laundry and get it back into their dressers before it's dirty again.) and three washrags and am chasing down three kids who don't want to take a bath to get their clothes off them. My daughter pulls her diaper off while I'm stripping her brother. Of course, it's a fully-loaded one and she now has poo from her lower back to her ankles and all over her hands and the floor. I abandon the boy with his clothes half off and grab her before she can smear poo all over the house. I grab last night's washrag, turn on the hot water and hold her still as I wait for the water to heat up. I wipe her down with the wash rag, rinsing it out no less than four times, and then sit her on the potty after she pees on the bath mat because that's totally the order I'd do it in. *insert another eye roll here*
9:12 pm: Kids are bathed, poo is completely cleaned up, pajamas are on, and I'm starting the nightly meds ritual of inhalers and more Zyrtec. I rinse and refill the vaporizers because thanks to the messed up weather, it's a giant snot factory around here.
9:30 pm: Kids are in bed. One of them is screaming from her room because she doesn't want to go to bed yet and another is sneaking out of bed to grab another toy from the floor. I bust in and scare the crap out of the sneaky one and run him back to bed with a firm fussing and he lays down and whines for ten minutes. I stand outside the door of my girl's room and sweet talk her into being quiet and going to sleep.
10:15 pm: I lay down in bed after picking up the toys from the floor in the kitchen and the hallway. I abandoned the living room after seeing what a mess it was and opted to go start more laundry instead. The basket of laundry from the dryer sits beside my bed unfolded. I forgot to wash my face which is still breaking out like a damn teenager's. I hate hormones. I fall asleep with my phone in my hand as I was texting a friend about the tragedy in Japan and wake some time in the middle of the night with my phone under my back. I roll over plug it in to the charger on the nightstand and then fall back asleep.
3:00 am: My girl wakes up and whines for me so I go cover her back up and get her puppy out of the floor and give her the sippy cup she lost under her blankets. I check her vaporizer and go get a bowl full of water to refill it then go refill the boys' vaporizer and cover them back up, too. I go back to bed and cuss when the alarm goes off again in a couple of hours.
Who wants my glamorous life? Anyone? Will someone just take the middle of the night stuff and the dishes? Please???
5:10 am: Alarm clock goes off again. I roll over and turn the first alarm off.
5:30 am: The second alarm on the alarm clock goes off. (WTF is with all these alarms? I'm trying to sleep here. Sheesh...) I smack snooze, roll over even though I know this will make me late but I was just up at 2 am doing a breathing treatment that took 45 minutes to complete from start to finish.
6:00 am: I sit up in bed after having turned the alarm clock off and almost falling back to sleep. I grab my phone and text my mom to tell her I'm up because she's my alarm clock back-up. (I love you, Mom!)
6:15 am: I slowly and rather clumsily fall out of bed and walk with my eyes mostly closed to the bathroom. I turn on the water and wait a couple minutes on it to get hot. While I'm waiting, I delete all the junk emails off my phone.
6:35 am: I'm out of the shower, possibly without shaving my legs because really? Every day? Why? No one's seeing my legs but me right now anyways. *insert eye roll here*
7:00 am: I'm mostly dressed and wandering down the hallway trying to avoid stubbing my toe on a toy or running into a wall in my still half-asleep state of mind. I usually only succeed in one of these goals. Today I didn't stub my toe but I did bounce off the door frame on my way into the kitchen.
7:05 am: I finally have my earbud in place and connected to my phone so I call my mom to chat to her as she's getting ready for work. It's basically the only time I get to talk to her during tax season. (CPA's are so overworked this time of year. I love y'all!)
7:10 am: I open my boys' bedroom door, flip on the light, and watch them cover their heads like little vampires. Sometimes I get a good morning from my little morning boy but his brother is guaranteed to only groan and try to hide under his blankets. I get their clothes for the day out of their dressers and then my morning boy, Noggin, follows me down the hall to get dressed.
7:15 am: I open my daughter's bedroom door, flip on the light, and watch her either cover her eyes if she's face up or just completely ignore me if she's face down. Either way she's not getting up yet. I get her brother dressed as he asks me about every. single. thing. on the walls, the floor, the changing table, and the dresser. He likes to talk in the morning. a lot. My mom chuckles in my ear because she can hear him asking me a million questions and she thinks it's hilarious to see me getting a dose of a child as talkative as I was when I was little. (I'm on to you, Mom. Just so you know...)
7:22 am: I go back to retrieve the smaller of my twin boys, Screech, who earns his nickname by doing exactly that all the way down the hall to get dressed because he is not at all happy about it. He is NOT a morning person. I'm pretty sure he would sleep until at least 10am, if not noon, every day if his brother didn't wake him up early on the weekends. I get him dressed and he either goes to the living room to bounce on the couch or he lays in the floor and throws a temper tantrum because he didn't get to wear his snow boots in 60 degree weather. (Reminder: put snow boots in closet out of sight of small, ferociously angry little boy.)
7:27 am: I go over and roll my girl across her bed to get her close enough to pick up as she claws the blankets, the stuffed animals, and the bed rail to try to keep from being lifted out of her nice warm bed. She whines and fusses and tries to kick me in the gut as I'm trying to change her diaper and get her dressed. There is much growling and fussing coming from me too when her little heel makes a connection to my boob. (How do they always manage to kick my boobs? I mean, there have to be rules about this kind of thing. Moms should get longer arms or something.)
7:35 am: Everyone's dressed and I'm carrying the diaper bag, 3 coats, a blanket, a stuffed puppy, and one still angry little girl into the kitchen. I sit down the coats, puppy, and hostile kid (who screams bloody murder at this point) and pick up my purse and take it and the diaper bag out to start the car so it will warm up, without my coat. Did I mention it's cold outside in the mornings right now? Well, it is and my little girl doesn't appreciate it when I've been outside and my hands are cold and I come back in and pick her up.
7:40 am: Meds time. Inhalers for both boys, vitamins for all three, and Zyrtec for all three because allergies and asthma don't mix well. If anyone is sick, this med schedule gets very complicated very fast.
7:45 am: Start loading kids in the car while telling Screech if he doesn't get that vitamin chewed up he's going to have to spit it out. He chews a little and tries to continue sucking on the vitamin. I fuss more and he finally gets it chewed up about one second before he has to either spit it out and get in the car or swallow it. I get everyone buckled in. Climb into my seat. I'm kinda sweating by this point. I thought it was colder than this outside a few minutes ago?
7:53 am: I pull into the daycare parking lot after listening to the boys whine because the train disappeared from view before we got there. (I have mixed feelings about the train.) I unbuckle the boys, go around to the other side and get the diaper bag from the passenger seat, my daughter from the back seat, and then go back around and help the boys out of the car while holding my little girl (who's not so darn little anymore) and the diaper bag. Before I can get Screech out of the car I have to tell him to put back whatever it is he's picked up that he can't take in with him while simultaneously keeping his brother from running off and his sister from slipping out of my grip. Juggling, I'm a master at it.
8:03 am: I'm late. I'm late. I'm late again. I run out of the daycare, strap myself in as I'm backing out of my parking place and try to hustle to work. Putting my name badge around my neck and my work keys in my pocket as I'm driving.
8:07 am: I'm late but I'm here. I hurry to my office and hope my boss hasn't gotten here yet. He's usually later than I am so it works itself out. Luckily today, he's late, too. I go to my office and boot up the computer and get started on making myself look busy. Then I actually do get busy.
9:30am: I realize I'm thirsty so I go get a drink and then chat with a coworker about the breathing treatment I had to do last night and how bad middle of the night wake ups suck. I go back to my office and kill more trees in the name of inventory control.
12:00 noon: The whistle goes off and I realize that rumbling sound is my stomach growling. I grab my phone and call my mom to see if she's going to go to lunch with me. She's not. It's tax season. I hate tax season because I always lose my lunch buddy.
12:10 pm: I enter *insert big retail store name here* and go to all four corners of the store to retrieve three items. I know the math doesn't figure on that but they keep moving crap and I can't find a damn thing in there anymore. I curse under my breath when I figure out the only register open is the one with the old lady that likes to look at and question every item you're purchasing. I wish they'd retire her old ass already. It's time for some fresh meat behind the register because if she asks me one more time why I like a particular smell of baby wash more than the original baby wash, I might have to smack her.
12:30 pm: I'm in the drive thru line at the pharmacy. Thought I was gonna say a fast food place, didn't you? No, I can't get there this quickly. It doesn't work that way. I'm picking up refills on inhalers and more diaper goo because I swear if they ever stop mixing that stuff, I'm going to cry. *all hail the diaper goo makers because they've saved my kids' butts more than once*
12:50 pm: I'm now in line at the grossest fast food restaurant in town because it's also the fastest and I'm almost out of time for lunch. I get behind the guy who is ordering for 12 people at his office. I curse loudly in my car with the window up now because really? Why me? Just, why me?
1:05 pm: I pull back into work. I'm late from lunch and I still haven't managed to eat more than three stale fries. I'm a little bit harried and annoyed at this point. I rush in and clock back in and then try to sneak back to my office with my lunch. I sit at my desk and type with a stale fry in one hand and half a burger in the other hand as I leave greasy fingerprints all over my keyboard.
1:25 pm: My boss walks in my office just as I cram the last quarter of my burger in my mouth so I can type with both hands. I look at him awkwardly and continue typing as I chew furiously and swallow an entirely too large bite of burger so I can ask what he needs. He looks at me with a look that crosses between amused to disgusted and asks me to cover for another area tomorrow which will put me further behind on my own work but I agree because I'm that girl that agrees to almost anything. *facepalm*
5:06 pm: I have been working crazily when all of a sudden I realize everyone else is gone and no one stopped in to ask me if I was going home sometime today. I'm late leaving now. There's one more thing to get fussed at for tomorrow. Oh, well. I grab my coat and purse, turn off the radio station that's been playing the same three songs all damn day long, shut down my computer, turn off the small heater that might as well be the only heat source in the building because I freeze my ass off in here all day long. I hurry out the door after clocking out only to realize it's pouring rain and I left my umbrella in my office.
5:07 pm: I'm in the car, turning on the heat and wiping the water off my glasses so I can see to drive. I'm soaked and I'm cold but I wasn't going back up to the third floor just for an umbrella.
5:12 pm: I pull in at the daycare after waiting on some moron to turn left at the bottom of the hill with three lanes of traffic coming at him. I'm still cursing under my breath as I climb out of the car and then I realize that the owner is behind me because he snuck around the back of his car as I was getting out of mine. He says hi and scares the shit out of me then laughs and jogs off in the rain to the door as I glare at his back.
5: 35 pm: I get the kids loaded in the car after having to put two pairs of the kid's shoes back on them before I could take them outside because heaven forbid that my kids leave their shoes on for more than 10 minutes. As soon as I sit down in my seat and get my soaking wet coat off, it quits raining outside. Someone's screwing with me. I just know it.
5:45 pm: I pull in at home and see that the paper I didn't order has been thrown in the middle of my driveway at some point and is now in a bag full of water and soaking wet. I drive over top of it and pull under the carport, thankful for that one thing that keeps the kids from being soaked because it's raining again. After I get all the kids, the diaper bag, the blanket, the puppy that was forgotten until she made it inside the house and is now standing at the door screaming at me to bring it to her, and the various art work projects covered in macaroni and something that smells like pudding into the house, I go back to retrieve the soaked paper from the driveway and check the mail. I'm soaked again.
6:00 pm: I start dinner as my daughter clings to my leg and begs for one more cookie or goldfish or gummies or anything she sees in my hand whether it's cooked or not. Once the hamburger is defrosting, I go start a DVD for the kids that only one of them will actually sit and watch while one of the boys jumps on the furniture and runs up and down the hall dragging out all his toys and my girl lays in the kitchen floor and cries because I won't let her ruin her appetite before dinner.
7:00 pm: I sit the kids down to eat or only partially eat dinner. I make my plate only to have to sit it down and go back for more bread/macaroni and cheese/green beans/sippy cup refills. As I sit down again, they decide they're done eating so I'm back up cleaning off hands and faces and shirts and pants so that they can go back to the living room and yell at me to come and restart the DVD.
7:45 pm: I sit down and eat my cold dinner, chug my glass of milk, and start cleaning up everyone's plates and cups and booster seats and the high chair and the floor and the wall and the stove. I load the dishwasher and empty the scraps and hand wash the pots and pans.
8:30 pm: I have now gathered up three sets of pajamas (which I had to go down to the dryer and get because I can never seem to fold the laundry and get it back into their dressers before it's dirty again.) and three washrags and am chasing down three kids who don't want to take a bath to get their clothes off them. My daughter pulls her diaper off while I'm stripping her brother. Of course, it's a fully-loaded one and she now has poo from her lower back to her ankles and all over her hands and the floor. I abandon the boy with his clothes half off and grab her before she can smear poo all over the house. I grab last night's washrag, turn on the hot water and hold her still as I wait for the water to heat up. I wipe her down with the wash rag, rinsing it out no less than four times, and then sit her on the potty after she pees on the bath mat because that's totally the order I'd do it in. *insert another eye roll here*
9:12 pm: Kids are bathed, poo is completely cleaned up, pajamas are on, and I'm starting the nightly meds ritual of inhalers and more Zyrtec. I rinse and refill the vaporizers because thanks to the messed up weather, it's a giant snot factory around here.
9:30 pm: Kids are in bed. One of them is screaming from her room because she doesn't want to go to bed yet and another is sneaking out of bed to grab another toy from the floor. I bust in and scare the crap out of the sneaky one and run him back to bed with a firm fussing and he lays down and whines for ten minutes. I stand outside the door of my girl's room and sweet talk her into being quiet and going to sleep.
10:15 pm: I lay down in bed after picking up the toys from the floor in the kitchen and the hallway. I abandoned the living room after seeing what a mess it was and opted to go start more laundry instead. The basket of laundry from the dryer sits beside my bed unfolded. I forgot to wash my face which is still breaking out like a damn teenager's. I hate hormones. I fall asleep with my phone in my hand as I was texting a friend about the tragedy in Japan and wake some time in the middle of the night with my phone under my back. I roll over plug it in to the charger on the nightstand and then fall back asleep.
3:00 am: My girl wakes up and whines for me so I go cover her back up and get her puppy out of the floor and give her the sippy cup she lost under her blankets. I check her vaporizer and go get a bowl full of water to refill it then go refill the boys' vaporizer and cover them back up, too. I go back to bed and cuss when the alarm goes off again in a couple of hours.
Who wants my glamorous life? Anyone? Will someone just take the middle of the night stuff and the dishes? Please???
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