So, here is the thing about life with little ones and a mom who suffers from perpetual "mom brain." Some days seem as smooth as glass, and some days, well, go a little something like this...
3:30 a.m. Suddenly wake up from a deep sleep with a surge of design ideas for new house we will be moving to in a couple of months.
4:15 a.m. Fabulous design ideas are replaced by dark, looming thoughts about how much work we have to do before moving.
4:35 a.m. Dark, looming thoughts are replaced by frustration that I cannot go back to sleep.
4:55 a.m. Fall back asleep.
5:02 a.m. Baby girls cries out.
5:05 a.m. Decide to move alarm clock time from 6 a.m. to 6:15 a.m.. Every little bit helps, right?
6:15 a.m. Tear myself out of my super cozy, comfy bed and begin working on packing up the house, cleaning base boards, drinking coffee, doing yoga in the garage, showering, feeding baby, checking email, and playing with Baby Girl.
9:00 a.m. Leave a little early to meet my in-laws and pick up Big Brother and Little Brother, who had a sleepover. So early, in fact, I have time for Starbucks.
9:11 a.m. Pick up a steaming cup of Starbucks, turn up the radio so I can sing to Baby Girl since she doesn't complain, and hit the road. Life is good.
9:12 a.m. Glance at gas tank.
9:13 a.m. Interrupt singing to begin swearing at myself. The tank is on empty.
9:28 a.m. Roll in on fumes to closest gas station.
9:29 a.m. Realize my purse and wallet are at home. Of course, I didn't notice this earlier since I used a gift card I have conveniently stowed in my car.
9:30 a.m. Call Mother-in-Law and begin lamenting about how uncooperative my brain is. In-Laws decide it would be fastest (and probably safest) for them to just drive all the way to my house.
11:02 a.m. The Brothers are safely home and already outside trying to capture birds with their empty laundry baskets.
11:14 a.m. While changing Baby Girl's diaper on the couch, I find myself lost in deep thoughts about kitchen wall colors in our new house.
11:15 a.m. Something wet is running down my leg.
11:16 a.m. Snap out of my interior design fantasy and realize Baby Girl has peed all over herself, the couch and me, and it has dribbled down to the carpet. She thinks this is hilarious and I am wondering why I was changing a diaper on a couch.
11:20 a.m. Clean up, lunch, feed Baby Girl, pack, home-staging, bribe everyone into the car with the promise of playing with new bubble machine this afternoon.
12:12 p.m. Pull into a parking spot in our quaint little downtown. Husband is going to take the boys for ice cream while I run to a doctor's appointment with Baby Girl.
12:13 p.m. As Big Brother hops out of the car, he announces "Beautiful day! Sure is a nice breeze!" A group of women look up from their Bible study and smile.
12:15 p.m. As I pull Baby Girl out of the car, the women respond with, "Oooohh! Aaaah! Adorable!"
12:16 p.m. Then comes Little Brother. As he jumps out of the van, his red hair gleaming in the sun, he excitedly shouts, "Let's pretend we are big kids and that we love beer!" The women gasp. I see their eyes narrow and turn to look at me, Mother Of The Year.
12:43 p.m. While waiting on the doctor I receive text from husband explaining that Big Brother was licking the glass barrier over the ice cream bins and informed the staff that he was spelling his name with his tongue.
1:47 p.m. After a quick trip to the library that involved only a small incident of The Brothers making a shuffleboard game with DVDs, all kids are home and preparing for "quiet time." I even tell Little Brother that he can rest on the couch today instead of napping in his room.
2:08 p.m. Little Brother begins moaning and groaning that we are being too loud. He sounds like an old man as he grunts and tries to get comfortable on the couch.
2:24 p.m. Little Brother continues his complaining as he tries to get comfortable on the floor, "Are you kidding me!? C'mon. Are you kidding me?! Everything is so loud!"
2:55 p.m. Still trying.
3:25 p.m. And, still trying.
4:00 p.m. Once Husband is home, run with Big Brother to CVS since the bubble machine didn't come with batteries.
4:05 p.m. Big Brother asks me at CVS checkout, "How in the world did the cash register guy get that big nasty ring in his nose?"
4:08 p.m. Engage in deep conversation with Big Brother about other people's feelings in the car. I glance in rearview mirror for his reaction. He is licking the window.
4:15 p.m. Walk into family room to find Little Brother sound asleep.
5:00 p.m. Begin trying to wake up Little Brother.
5:45 p.m. Little Brother is finally somewhat awake and laying on the floor mumbling, "C'mon, are you guys kidding me?! C'mon!"
6:30 p.m. Pack the whole fam in the car and head to neighborhood concert.
7:00 p.m. Little Brother is laying face down on the blanket instead of running around like a crazy person.
7:15 p.m. Little Brother is still laying face down. I check his forehead and he feels like he is burning up.
7:17 p.m. I inform Husband that I will be heading home with the younger two and he is in charge of Big Brother's well-being. I ask where Big Brother is. Husband is unsure.
7:20 p.m. A neighbor asks if the soaking wet, barefoot kid wrestling with his friend in a drainage ditch is Big Brother. Husband and I reply, "Definitely" with our proudest smiles.
7:25 p.m. Arrive home, discover Little Brother's temperature is 102! Administer Tylenol, give baths, jammies and get him in bed.
7:45 p.m. Baby Girl is starving! I grab a bottle and can't find a burp cloth so I snatch the closest thing I can find... a pair of the boys' underwear. At least they are clean.
8:20 p.m. Big Brother is calling from his room that he feels fine and wants to play. Begin evening negotiations.
8:40 p.m. Still negotiating with Little Brother who marches into the hallway, shouts, "Mommy! I don't even know you anymore!" and slams his bedroom door. Darn Tylenol.
9:30 p.m. Husband and Big Brother arrive home after chasing a loose dog around the neighborhood.
10:00 p.m. Finally have Big Brother in bed when I hear Little Brother announcing that he has to go poopy.
10:03 p.m. Husband informs Little Brother that he will be wiping him tonight. I am downstairs hiding in the hall closet with red wine.
10:07 p.m. Little Brother shouts that he appreciates that Daddy wiped him, but he has "Made another piece of poopy so that Mommy can wipe me because I love her so much!"
It sure is nice to be loved that much. Now goodnight everybody and let's do this all over again tomorrow, with a little less "mom brain," limited bathroom and beer references and a lot of love.