That statement alone is never associated with anything positive.
The weekend is over which means my husband goes back to work, which also means the extra two hands I have had over the weekend are leaving out that door with him. Not to mention as soon as the door shuts and his foot leaves off the front step, the kids huddle together and make an evil plot to drive me as crazy as possible until Daddy comes back home (they don’t really huddle up or make an evil plan, but in my mind they do). Please keep in mind today is a 4 against 1 day, with my kids being ages 6, 4, almost 2 and 2 weeks old….(yea, I know, I am a little crazy myself for having them all) Now I have experience, not only being a mother, but I worked at a daycare for almost 4 years (which ratio was 10 three year olds to just myself at times), and took child development classes while completing my associates degree in Education. So I should have this completely under control! Right? Wrong! The difference is, these are MY kids, and MY kids know how to get over on mommy and beat the system, and by “the system” I mean all the things my textbooks, classes, and experience has taught me to avoid days like this….let’s continue.
I know what most may think, “Be grateful you have kids to drive you crazy, some try all their life with no luck!” And trust me, if it wasn’t for my kids I would not be where I am today, or who I am today, but please keep in mind, we mothers are still human at the end of the day. So before I continue my vent, never mistaken my frustration with lack of love. I absolutely love all my kids, including my stepson, and would never trade them for anything, including peace and sanity. (Even though my brain is currently correcting me and trying to convince my heart that I probably would, just for a day).
I will admit, I envy not having whatever Daddys have to put kids on their best behavior with one look (yes, “thee look”, which my mother used to tell me my grandfather had mastered when she was younger and now I completely understand it). And as I have spent the first half of my Monday listening to ear piercing screams, tantrums being thrown, complaining, whining, and of course my own voice repeating itself multiple times, I am wishing I not only had those extra set of hands but “thee look” to save me from feeling like I am slowly but surely not only loosing the battle, but my mind as well.
So as I sit here I try to wrap my mind around how I created this chaos, I question how these precious little innocent babies have turned into crazy kids who have turned my home, my safe place, into a psyc ward, a very messy, unorganized psyc ward, and I continue to count down the hours until Daddy is back home. And then I realize within that thought process, they must have been born to torture me…right?
The real thoughts of a mommy in distress