Tag Archives: chaos

Portrait of a Harried Mother

It’s Groundhog Day every Saturday in my house, but I don’t have Bill Murray playing the piano or making ice sculptures. Instead, I have two kids with early morning extracurricular activities and zero motivation to get their shit together to participate in these activities.

After a long week of dragging the kids out of bed by their ankles, shoving them into their school uniforms, and tossing them into the hallowed halls of their elementary school, probably with their hair and teeth brushed, they decide to sleep in on Saturdays.

Usually I would praise Jesus, the Sandman, and everyone else for this great miracle, but I can’t, because WE HAVE SHIT TO DO.

The morning prep is a one-parent job because the other one is trying to scrub yesterday’s stink of their body. So that’s one parent to….

1. Feed the dogs, let them out, clean up the poop they’ll leave in the house even though you just took them out, dammit.

2. Convince The Boy, who is too tired to be bothered with pants, to cover up his junk.

3. Rip the nasty pull-up The Girl uses for a toilet off her body so her girl parts can air out and not smell like the hind end of a horse.

4. Feed the beasts, I mean kids, while nudging the dogs out of the way because they are part Hobbit and think it’s time for second breakfast.

5. Beg, plead, threaten, bribe, and anything else that can be thought of to get the kids to put on their clothes. One of these days I will take them to soccer or dance completely naked. I bet they would get dressed for me after that.

6. Shave The Girl’s head when she runs screaming in terror from the hairbrush.

7. Pin The Boy down and scrub the plaque off of his teeth with steel wool, or whatever is handy.

Finally, they are ready and it’s the other parent’s turn to shower. There are approximately 15 minutes to make the magic happen before leaving the house. Today, this was my result. I am so hot I can hardly stand myself.

Wow. Feel my MILF-y smolder.

Wow. Feel my MILF-y smolder.

I wish Bill Murray were here. He’d make the chaos of the morning all better. And he can remind to not drive angry.

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A Chaotic Home is a Happy Home

The one thing I’ll never compromise on is… having chaos in my house.

Growing up, I lived a pretty quiet life. It was just me, my family and my books. That didn’t really change until I had my son. As any new parent knows, babies can be, how shall we say? Disruptive. My house was an explosion of plastic crap, baby bottles, and two people too tired to clean anything up.

Adding to our general disarray, we had three fur-shedding tornadoes; two cats and a dog. There wasn’t a day that went by when tumbleweeds of hair and dust didn’t roll past my feet.

I tried to keep up, but I couldn’t. The house was mostly clean, but I still had toys, books, and crafts everywhere. I had to choose; picking up board books or playing with my son. Don’t get me wrong, I would try to toss a few things into a basket as we played, but it was never enough.

My house isn't messy.

My kids are awesome house designers.

Soon, we moved, adding to and losing some from our brood. My daughter was born, one cat and a dog died, and we adopted three energetic pups.

In our house, it’s loud. A sample of our symphony…

“Mom! She’s using my Netflix!”

“Well, he’s not eating breakfast!”

“That’s mine! Don’t watch ponies!”

*Sobbing* “Mommy! He hit me!”

“She started it!”

“Aaarrroooo! Bark! Bark!”

“Where is your father? I am trying to make sandwiches. Have you finished breakfast?”

“Yeess…”

“Brushed your teeth?”

“Ummmm….”

“Stop fighting, brush your teeth, and for the love of God, daughter of mine, brush your hair; you look like you’ve been fighting with a raccoon.”

“Grrrr…. Grrr…”

“Where’s Tiny? And, what’s in your backpack, baby girl?”

“Do not put Tiny in your backpack.”

“Meow, meow, meow…”

“Someone let the cat into the basement, and get your shoes on!”

It’s not all bad, there’s also this…

“Daddy, throw me on the bed!”

“Now me!”

“And mommy!”

“No. Not mommy.”

“Squeal… squee!”

“Again! Again!”

“Woooooof!”

“I don’t think Sparkles likes the excitement.”

Or…

“I got the blankets to make a tent! Let’s watch a movie and make cookies.”

“I want the dough!”

“I want the bowl!”

Notice all the exclamation points? Yeah, we’re a boisterous bunch. Boisterous, messy and ridiculously happy. So, come on over. You may have to dust some cat hair off the couch, but you’ll have a good time. I promise.

This post was part of the Finish the Sentence Friday bloghop. There are always fun topics, and I don’t participate enough.

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