Three’s a crowd
What does a sick kid, a teething baby and a defiant two year old add up to?
Me. Flipping the eff out.
Yesterday morning, the kids and I packed up and went to the gym as we always do for spin class. I led the older two into the daycare and then set Mae down on the floor, as I always do.
Well, you’d think by the way she wailed that I had drop kicked her. She grabbed on to my legs and looked up at me with those big Mae eyeballs and cried like I was going off to war. Bless the daycare ladies’s hearts, because they told me to go and that she’d be fine.
Since I had been dealing with a stubborn, “Hello, my name is Luca and my favorite word is ‘no,'” toddler, I had some frustrations to work out at spin. My spin instructor is the best. She plays good music, makes it tough but doable and is super motivating.
Since my birthday is on Monday, she played a birthday song for me. And she even let me take the first standing run.
Best. Spin class. Ever.
But, then it was back to reality. Mae was plain irritated with me, so I put her to bed. The kids were whiny. I want this, I want that. Which, typically is OK, but, well, I was irritated, too.
Why was I irritated? Because I was working on The Stocking.
I mean, it’s coming along. But it seems as if it will NEVER EVER END.
Then the arguing started.
“This is my toy! Why are you playing with MY TOY?”
“You share, Claire?”
“Not that toy. I wanted it!”
“But it’s my toy now, Claire.”
“MOOOOOOM! CLAIRE TOOK MY TOY!”
The last MOOOOM scream made me stick myself with the needle. Clearly, I was not pleased.
Trying to save my hard work from blood, I ushered the kids to bed, sans the toy. (And for the record, it was a card from Candy Land.)
Then Mae woke up. Not a moment to myself to spare, she woke up in semi-decent spirits.
That lasted for about 10 minutes. Then she was angry. While she was flopping herself on my lap, I noticed that another tooth had budded and a fourth was on it’s way after that one. Duh, Cassie.
The motrin kicked in and we were good to go. Until she rubbed her eyes and I tried to put her back to sleep.
Well, apparently that was a stupid thing to do. And she fought sleep for 45 minutes until finally, she slept, only for me to have to wake her up again 20 minutes later because the older two had soccer.
I mean, how hard is it to clone someone? Honestly. Let’s get on that, scientists.
And soccer. Oh what a gem that was. Luca decided to play with the field divider, which then gave a few other kids that same great idea. It was like a cult forming over there. Finally, he figured out what to do with the ball and actually participated.
Maelie, however, decided she wanted to crawl everywhere and so I’d let her go a few feet and then drag her back. She thought it was hilarious! Until she suddenly didn’t.
Stressed, we got home and I had to get dinner on the table. But I also had to vacuum. And it looked like a toy bomb went off in the living room. But no one wanted to be helpful.
So I did what any self respecting mother would do.
I took all the toys and threw them on the deck.
Claire and Luca looked through the glass doors, clawing at it, bawling their little eyeballs out – “MY TOYS! MY TOYS! THEY’RE OUTSIDE!”
And I responded with a cool, “Well, you didn’t care to pick them up, so now they’re on the deck. Next step, the trash.”
Claire opted to vacuum the rugs and Luca picked up his other toys in the playroom, and that warranted everyone getting the toys back from the deck.
Matt got home, we ate, and I was stressed. What do I do when I’m stressed? I bake.
I made a fantastic peanut butter blondie with milk chocolate frosting and proceeded to eat a large portion of it, not sharing with anyone because no one was more deserving than me.
I went to bed feeling annoyed. But I finally was able to fall asleep when Matt started coughing and borderline choking. He was fine, but it lead to my facebook status update:
“Is it wrong that I’m slightly annoyed that my husband choking on store bought cheesecake woke me up? I mean, I made a perfectly good peanut butter blondie that he could have choked on instead.”