Mama Said There'd be Days Like This

The last two days have been a trial of my ever waining patience. My poor husband has had a cold for over a week now, my son has hit another of his many growth spurts and has caught the sniffles from my husband, and my daughter...well, she's just being her typical little (teething) self - lovable but demanding. Or is dramatic the word I'm looking for? All this combined means no rest for this tired Mommy.

I have a load of laundry in the wash, a load in the dryer, a load sitting in the chair waiting to be folded, a load on the stairs waiting to be put away (we won't mention how long that load has been sitting there) and about 3-4 loads waiting to be washed.

The dining room table and kitchen counter are piled up with various items that need to be sorted and put away. The kitchen sink has a stack of dishes that need to be washed and the strainer is full of dishes that need to be put up.

You have to watch your step in the living room lest you step on a puzzle piece. Or a book. Or a piece of plastic food. Or a Mega Block. OR...well, you get the picture.

Dora and Diego have been my best friends as they mostly keep my daughter entertained while I try to care for her unusually fussy and demanding brother. Seriously, he's doing GREAT if I can get him to go more than an hour without eating. And while he usually loves his swing, he won't stay in there for more than 20 minutes. The sound of crying rings in my ears as I try to get anything done. I've read "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" more times than my arachnophobic nerves care to count.

I got some not so great news that, though it has been a long time coming, I've been dreading...but, typical Army style, there's no specific date and "nothing is set in stone." ARGH!!!!


Poor Peanut, the dog, had to beg for food and water for 20 minutes before I finally managed to get it to him...and he's been staring longingly at the door as I haven't had the energy or time to let him out for his usual "long" morning potty break. Just short outings for the poor pooch.

In other words, the house is a wreck and I've done nothing but deal with fussy babies since 0230 hours Monday morning (that's 2:30 am for the civies). I feel like a stressed out mom, a bad pet owner, and a terrible wife.

These are the days that I would like to lock myself in the bathroom with a good book, a cup of tea, a LOUD radio and just soak in a warm, sudsy bath.

Alas, duty calls - or rather, cries. Very loudly. In chorus. *sigh*


That tiny little voice in my head - which sounds suspiciously like my mother - keeps telling me that it'll get better before the kids get married, and that I'm not dealing with anything new. Every mother goes through days like this! I just wish that her person would accompany that voice to help me out! (Hey, you're never too old to want your mama!!!)

But I refuse to end this post - or my day - on a bad note. Because for all the times that mama said there'd be days like this she also told me that they never last. It might not be tomorrow or even the day after that, though I can hope for it, but there's always a silver lining. So for now I'll just enjoy my babies smiles and kisses and try, very hard, to pretend that the music coming from my TV is Josh Groban instead of Diego...