Once Upon A Time, I had two children. And they were the stuff of dreams.
Also, I typed up this list to help you understand why having children also means I can't call you, email you, drop by your house, or have coffee with you for at least 15 more years.
I enjoy this humorous saying: "Cleaning your house while your children are at home is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos." This saying also makes me cry because it sums up how I spend 80% of my time.
My friend Bekah, whom I adore, sent me a practical text explaining her potential appearance at our children's school Thanksgiving feast today. There was a line space at the end and then "...here. it's chocolate milk." Siri apparently caught a comment to one of her three littles at the end of her voicetext to me. And this story basically sums up my conversational life lately: "Yes, I'll be at that important meeting with the important people... No, you may not use lipstick on the cat."
An impromptu trip to Old Navy today unexpectedly included a magical 40-percent off sale they were having. However, I left there with a picture of my child riding the plastic Old Navy dog like a horse, a pack of boy socks for my oldest, and a dress with a built-in tutu for my youngest. Shopping for myself is no longer a thing. I'd feel a little sad about that, but I don't currently have the emotional energy.
I can never bend down to tie my shoe or wipe something up without someone sensing my close proximity to the floor and immediately rushing in from another room to attempt to use me as a seat/a stepstool/a climbing toy.
My purse is full of old Chicfila toys, hairbows, single children's socks, applesauce squeezables, and baggies of goldfish. I also have a wallet.
Every clear glass surface in my house has a handprint on it. Or fifteen. And then they want me to give them money to clean the windows. #conspiracy
My computer download history is almost entirely made up of instructions on how to build Lego Mixel creatures.
Someone asks me for juice or a snack or a treat or a show every 4.8 seconds. All.Day.Long.
I haven't finished an intelligent sentence in a conversation in approximately 6.9 years.
I am in the middle of 18 books right now, which means I start books and then fall asleep every night after reading ONE page. Also, anything above a fifth grade reading level makes my brain shut down. #mombrain
|Gratuitous picture of our cute kitty Bitty.|
One morning last week, I put both kids in the car for our little trip to Sam's school and then realized my keys were missing. I spent 15 minutes searching the house like a crazy person and calling my husband and my mom to extensively freak out about how I couldn't find my keys and how we were going to be late for school and apparently also for life.
And then I found the keys.
Where they always are.
In the car by Mae's carseat.
Where I lay them when I buckle her in.
I call this toddler-mentia. Or dementia brought on by owning a toddler.
The struggle is real.