It's the Most *Wonderful* Time of the Year {AKA: Worse.Apocalypse.Ever}
My children were NOT my favorite people on the worse last day ever. Here's a little rundown on their attempts at putting Mom in the nuthouse. They got an early start on the apocalypse celebration, as our *fun* started on Thursday, AKA "End of the World Eve" :
1} A diaper gets put a little too close to my hair straightener and melts all over it. The straightener ends up in the trash. This one is MY fault, but it was the start of our very long path to the end of the world fun.
2} Kyle pees on his sheets. Yes, the ones I'd JUST changed the day before.
3} We rush out the door to get Kyle to school and then go to the doctor with 2 sick boys = FUN for all in the BUSY sick children/school holiday/last day before holiday closing rush.
4} Evan has a double ear infection and is, shall we say, more tired and irritable than normal. Of course our medicine isn't ready at Walgreens, even 37 minutes after leaving the doctor's office. How long does it take to slap a label on a bottle and shake up some amoxicillin? It won't be ready for another 2 hours? Great.
5} We "get" to "help" out at Kyle's Christmas party at school. It was more of me trying to keep things together. And water spills on my camera.
6} Ryan says he has to go poop before naptime, but tries and doesn't. When Kyle goes to wake him up from naptime....LATE in the day...he runs out screaming, "GROSS! POOP! There's poop EVERYWHERE!"
{Mom runs upstairs and LOSES it.}
There really is poop everywhere: all over Ryan: down his legs, on his arms, under his fingernails. He pooped in his pants, removed them, got poop all over him/the floor--caked in in three major spots, his dresser, his sheets--Yes, the ones I just changed the day before--the dust ruffle, a pillow that was still waiting a fresh pillowcase, the walls, and the door. I was NOT happy. I'm sure some day I'll think back on this and laugh, but today is NOT that day. It was beyond disgusting, and I think it was for something very much like this that the phrase, "$h*t hit the fan" was invented. Good news: I didn't have to make dinner and Stephen went to pick it up!
7} The next morning, the boys seem to be constantly vacillating between playing, fighting, hurting each other, laughing, and crying.
8} We have time-outs in the first 20 minutes of the morning.
9} I attempt a trip to Target with all 3 boys--my *favorite*--to replace the busted straightener and to buy more cleaning supplies because Ryan's room still smells like poop and end up with a headache and reach frustration level from just trying to keep it together. {And, of course, we run into half our neighborhood, people from church, one of Kyle's teachers, and a friend from school, and I'm in NO mood to socialize.}
10} I spend the whole day disinfecting the house, re-cleaning bathrooms from the poop incident, continuing to wash everything from Ryan's room, and attempting to clean and clear the room from remnants of excrement.
11} As I finish vacuuming up the carpet freshener, Evan comes up and pushes the vacuum over. It falls directly onto the collection of pictures that I still need to hang in the upstairs hallway, smashing 2 frames into a million pieces. I then get to clean up glass shards from the carpet and dispose of 2 {not cheap} 11 X 14 frames.
12} I come downstairs after cleaning up this mess to discover Ryan covered in chocolate. He took the end of the world talk a little too seriously and decided to climb up on the counter, grab his chocolate advent calendar, open all the remaining days, and snack down on the chocolate. Kyle was not pleased and chastised Ryan for me. "PO! You are NOT supposed to do that! What have you done? You're ONLY supposed to eat ONE chocolate a day! Now what are you going to do until Christmas?!"
13} The boys play outside while I make dinner. We eat quickly and *amazingly* it was bath time! Everyone was clean and I got Evan out, dressed, and dosed with his medicine. I run upstairs to get PJs for PO. When I go back into the bathroom, I find that Evan had gone in there, cleaned out the bottom drawer, and thrown the contents INTO THE BATH WATER. Did I mention that my BRAND NEW STRAIGHTENER was in the bottom drawer?!? Game, set, and match, boys. You broke me.
Kyle's commentary: "Mom, maybe you shouldn't have had 3 babies. Evan is very bad. You maybe just should've had me and Ryan. Then it wouldn't be so hard."
Good news: Not long after that, it was bedtime, and I escaped to a fun Christmas party. And, I got to come home and sleep in my nice, warm bed, knowing that Stephen was home the next day--my reinforcement would be there all day long. I would not have to fight the day-after the end of the world battle alone.
2} Kyle pees on his sheets. Yes, the ones I'd JUST changed the day before.
3} We rush out the door to get Kyle to school and then go to the doctor with 2 sick boys = FUN for all in the BUSY sick children/school holiday/last day before holiday closing rush.
4} Evan has a double ear infection and is, shall we say, more tired and irritable than normal. Of course our medicine isn't ready at Walgreens, even 37 minutes after leaving the doctor's office. How long does it take to slap a label on a bottle and shake up some amoxicillin? It won't be ready for another 2 hours? Great.
5} We "get" to "help" out at Kyle's Christmas party at school. It was more of me trying to keep things together. And water spills on my camera.
6} Ryan says he has to go poop before naptime, but tries and doesn't. When Kyle goes to wake him up from naptime....LATE in the day...he runs out screaming, "GROSS! POOP! There's poop EVERYWHERE!"
{Mom runs upstairs and LOSES it.}
There really is poop everywhere: all over Ryan: down his legs, on his arms, under his fingernails. He pooped in his pants, removed them, got poop all over him/the floor--caked in in three major spots, his dresser, his sheets--Yes, the ones I just changed the day before--the dust ruffle, a pillow that was still waiting a fresh pillowcase, the walls, and the door. I was NOT happy. I'm sure some day I'll think back on this and laugh, but today is NOT that day. It was beyond disgusting, and I think it was for something very much like this that the phrase, "$h*t hit the fan" was invented. Good news: I didn't have to make dinner and Stephen went to pick it up!
7} The next morning, the boys seem to be constantly vacillating between playing, fighting, hurting each other, laughing, and crying.
8} We have time-outs in the first 20 minutes of the morning.
9} I attempt a trip to Target with all 3 boys--my *favorite*--to replace the busted straightener and to buy more cleaning supplies because Ryan's room still smells like poop and end up with a headache and reach frustration level from just trying to keep it together. {And, of course, we run into half our neighborhood, people from church, one of Kyle's teachers, and a friend from school, and I'm in NO mood to socialize.}
10} I spend the whole day disinfecting the house, re-cleaning bathrooms from the poop incident, continuing to wash everything from Ryan's room, and attempting to clean and clear the room from remnants of excrement.
11} As I finish vacuuming up the carpet freshener, Evan comes up and pushes the vacuum over. It falls directly onto the collection of pictures that I still need to hang in the upstairs hallway, smashing 2 frames into a million pieces. I then get to clean up glass shards from the carpet and dispose of 2 {not cheap} 11 X 14 frames.
12} I come downstairs after cleaning up this mess to discover Ryan covered in chocolate. He took the end of the world talk a little too seriously and decided to climb up on the counter, grab his chocolate advent calendar, open all the remaining days, and snack down on the chocolate. Kyle was not pleased and chastised Ryan for me. "PO! You are NOT supposed to do that! What have you done? You're ONLY supposed to eat ONE chocolate a day! Now what are you going to do until Christmas?!"
13} The boys play outside while I make dinner. We eat quickly and *amazingly* it was bath time! Everyone was clean and I got Evan out, dressed, and dosed with his medicine. I run upstairs to get PJs for PO. When I go back into the bathroom, I find that Evan had gone in there, cleaned out the bottom drawer, and thrown the contents INTO THE BATH WATER. Did I mention that my BRAND NEW STRAIGHTENER was in the bottom drawer?!? Game, set, and match, boys. You broke me.
Kyle's commentary: "Mom, maybe you shouldn't have had 3 babies. Evan is very bad. You maybe just should've had me and Ryan. Then it wouldn't be so hard."
Good news: Not long after that, it was bedtime, and I escaped to a fun Christmas party. And, I got to come home and sleep in my nice, warm bed, knowing that Stephen was home the next day--my reinforcement would be there all day long. I would not have to fight the day-after the end of the world battle alone.
After that awful few days, we had a wonderful Christmas, full of joy, memories, gladness, and fun. Then, there was another round of sad posts when the boys all got sick again, passing ear infections back and forth, diarrhea and vomiting, and all-around yuckiness. It's almost funny looking back now how hard life seemed when dealing with the everyday disasters and the annoying runny noses or germy messes.
One week after complaining about having sick boys and being sick of it, there came the blog post explaining that I was diagnosed with cancer.
Some days I still have a hard time believing this has all really happened. I'd like to say that in the magnitude of cancer, the "little" things like poop on the carpet, having to break up fights, spills at the dinner table, new Christmas ornaments broken 5 seconds after being unwrapped, toddler tantrums, ripped up children's books, pee on the couch, and a million other events that seem to add up in a day of motherhood {could all of these examples possibly be drawn from our real life lately?} don't make me want to BLOW UP, but I guess I still have a lot to learn. Even in my changed perspective from being on the road of cancer survival, the "little" things still pile up.
Yesterday started out much like that worse apocalypse ever day. But, we kept it together, turned our frowns upside down, and that pile of all those bad "little" things became a mountain of happy "little" things. I learned that forcing happy things to happen can often lead to frustration, but allowing yourself time to slow down and live in the moments, to breath them in......that is when the magic happens.
I'm still working on perspective. I'm still working on patience. I'm still working on understanding how all of the hard "little" things can help me appreciate more of the good ones. I'm still working on so much more. But, I'm alive and able to still be working, and It is often those "little" things that remind me.
Ah, your motherhood musings bring back lots of memories for me, especially today on the birthday of my youngest! You have GOT to write a book, my darling daughter!!!!! (BTW, you look SO beautiful in that color!) Love ya lots!
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