You know those days

when you wake up feeling energized and are determined to conquer the world and you just know you can do it because, I don't know why, but you just feel like you can?


This was one of those days.

The littles and I were excited to be going to lunch at 1:00 at Chic-Fil-A, we hadn't been in forever and better yet - I was so excited to be meeting a friend that I hadn't seen in AGES, literally like 2 years (and she lives 20 minutes - if that - away...so sad).

However, we've had a busy week and my house has suffered. A LOT. Plus, while laying in bed last night I decided it was high time that ALL AS.IN.EVERY.SINGLE.ONE of the toys were put in a happy home in the TOY ROOM downstairs. Why we have a perfectly capable toy room along with HUGE baskets of toys in EVERY CLOSET is beyond me. Where was I? Oh yeah.

So being a list maker and all and a happy flylady.com timer setter to boot I just knew I could handle everything on my list AHEAD of schedule. I got right to work by 8am.

Here is my list:

As you can see, I gave myself 15 minutes for the "toys" project. I wasn't ORGANIZING the toy room, just adding to it for now, I even allowed myself to place the boxes just inside the doorway. Two loads down, I hear Will playing happily in his crib. I think to myself quickly "he's awake, but he's happy, I'll let him play there until he starts to sound unhappy" this sounds good, so I proceed with load #3. Upon returning back up the stairs I start to hear his absolutely irresistible "muh-ma?" (Seriously, I've got to record it for you someday) I try to resist, and I can't. He's heard me shuffle baskets, he KNOWS I'm out here, he's calling my name and he just knows I'll be there soon. My heart and head battle it out. My heart wins. Afterward a flurry of diaper-cereal-more.cereal-more.cereal-oops.too.much.cereal-mopping.up.cereal.and.milk-clothes-Sesame.Street-MOM.GET.WILL!-MOM.GET.WILL-round 2,3,4 and 5 ensues. My 15 minute timer has easily gone off 8 times by now and I am 2 STINKING hours behind on a job that was supposed to take me 15 minutes. Grr.

I cross it off and move on to Laundry. I'm not too put out, I can make it up. The laundry is done after all, it shouldn't take more than 1/2 an hour to fold it up, right? Wrong. One very valuable lesson I've learned about myself is I am an EXTREME time UNDERestimator. Oh, and that if you type "cereal" more than a few times on your blog it starts to look really weird and you'll have to go to the pantry to verify that you've spelled it right, and that actually finding the WORD "cereal" is really hard to do on the cereal box, oh, and there it goes looking weird again. Where was I? Oh yeah.

It is now noon, lunch is in ONE HOUR and I've yet to do the kitchen, and I absolutely REFUSE to come home to a messy kitchen after lunch, so I put Gabe to work on getting dressed on his own and RUN AROUND LIKE MAD trying to take.out.garbage-nevermind.Josh.can.do.that-remove.toys.from.floor.of.kitchen-yes.some.of.the.very.toys.that.had.just.been.taken.downstairs-empty.dishwasher-rinse.dirty.dishes-load.dirty.dishes.... Where was I? Oh yeah.


It is 12:30 and I'm done-ish enough to satisfy for now, but I look like I've been cleaning all morning and lunch is in 1/2 hour. AS in being PRESENT AT RESTAURANT in 1/2 hour. I'm happy to report that I made it only a few minutes behind schedule, right Cindy? :) We had such a great time and leave with tired kids in tow. It is 3:30, I know that for the rest of the day not much is going to be accomplished, and I'm TIRED too. The bigs walk in at 3:45 fighting with each other. JOY. Josh had a rough day at school, and wouldn't tell Sam about it. Sam HATES being out of the loop and wouldn't quit pestering him. I can see Josh is upset and that he needs me ALONE for a minute to talk it through. Turns out, he had to stay in for recess to talk to his teacher about re-doing a math sheet. I couldn't tell if he was more upset about the teacher needing to talk to him or about missing recess, apparently, he didn't know either, both I guess. We hug for a few minutes and I purposely don't tell him what I'm thinking (because I was kind of thinking that it was a lot of hype for just one little missed recess - but I remind myself that I am NOT 9 and I keep my mouth shut). Whew. Where was I? Oh yeah.


I don't even know what time it is now. I know that I denied the boys their after school snack because their room looked like tornado-ville, and I insisted they clean it up in 20 minutes or less or they're waiting until dinnertime. I give them 20 plus 10 minutes for good measure and they still don't cut it. Now they have to wait. This does not make them happy. They are hungry. I am trying to teach them a valuable lesson. They don't see it that way. I start to wonder if I do either, but decide I've got to stand by my word. I learn something else. Whiny kids are no fun. Add HUNGER to the mix, then throw in a 3 year old who tuckered himself out playing with his "New fwends" and is crying on the couch for no reason (again, I'm not 3 - so what do I know) and a one year old who can NEVER handle the evening/dinnermaking/losing.mom.while.she.bustles.about.the.kitchen hour and you've got a recipe for DISASTER.

I am trying to hold it together but everything is unraveling behind me. Mark gets home and starts doing the only thing he knows how to for the screaming one year old and that is to feed him anything his heart desires, all the while the bigger kids BALK because they've been denied such goodness, and Sam wails that he hasn't eaten in like TWELVE HOURS (apparently breakfast and lunchtime don't count as eating - who knew!)

Mark wants to talk, we haven't seen each other all day but quickly gives up, even he can see we're losing this battle. He has to go to a meeting, I start to wonder if he actually skipped out the door, or if I'm just hallucinating - I think he did. I would have. It is now 6:30, dinner has STILL not been served, the boys have lots of homework, Will is still wailing and the cat - not to be left out - is scratching at the door to get out. (he thinks he's a dog) I need to lash out at something. I do the math. By process of elimination the cat's self confidence is by far the most impenetrable and I scream (really)
I'M.SORRY.TOBY.BUT.YOU.ARE.NOT.GOING.
OUT.RIGHT.NOW.SO.JUST.DEAL.WITH.IT!!!

He understands me, I just know it. He takes a few steps back, LEAPS onto the blinds, and hangs from the middle as the blinds crash over and over against the door. Even I must admit, it was revenge at it's finest. I totally jumped, HIGH. Well played, Toby.

But I don't stop there, I continue my rant, all self-confidence worries now put aside. "YOU STARVING KIDS SIT HERE AND EAT AND DON'T TALK - well, you can talk a little, but EAT, I am going OUT OF THIS ROOM FOR A MINUTE, AND PLEASE DON'T FOLLOW ME! The thing is, I never made it out. Turns out, I just needed to say it, then by the time I dished up my plate I felt better. Where was I? Oh yeah.

Daddy gets home, I hear him come in from the garage. You know it's bad when the first words out of his mouth are "Hey guys! You're still alive?!" oops. We sit for a minute on the couch, he puts my legs on his lap and we talk about our blessings, he makes sure I'm okay. This helps for the time being. But now dinner is done, the kitchen is deSTROYED again, and I'm helping with homework which is ABSOLUTELY.THE.LAST.THING.IN.THE.WORLD that I want to be doing at that moment - I am just SPENT - and so are they, but we persist and get through it. Meanwhile, I turn to Mark and announce that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES am I going to bed anytime soon (this cuts pretty low, as we both know our favorite time of day is our unwinding time - watching tv, or talking about the day and being together) and that he might as well just go now without me because I need time ALONE for a long long time while everyone else is asleep. He gets me there after all with a little plate of warm apple cobbler - he's sneaky that one. (that or I'm totally easy, the least I could have done was hold out for a foot rub!) The day ended with kisses and hugs all around, heartfelt ones. And you know what? Not ONE time in the midst of the craziness or my increasingly rotten mood did one person tell me to "snap out of it", "just get over it" or to "go away", none of them went screaming into their rooms, slamming their doors. They all endured the mommy of the moment and saw it gracefully to the end. Doing exactly as they were told, without hesitation. Once when I was complaining to Mark that I was frustrated because this, this, this, this and this all piled up at once and I felt really overwhelmed, Sam said lightheartedly "but, that's what mom's are supposed to do, right? They're supposed to handle everything." That's the only chastising I got, and it was more than deserved. Where was I? Oh yeah.

You know those days when you wake up feeling energized and are determined to conquer the world and you just know you can do it because, I don't know why, but you just feel like you can?

Today was one of those days.

Except it wasn't. Not EVEN close. That's okay, tomorrow is another day and I will try again - this time hopefully with a few extra helpings of patience. just in case.

Life is good.