Mombie.

There’s so much … so much. I don’t know where to start except to say that I had to call Poison Control last Friday because Asher drank half a bottle of Motrin, and after that ridiculous things kept happening and I kept CARRYING ON like the signs tell us to do, and now I’m at the point where everything makes me want to cry. Actually, if there was a “carry on” sign for this situation it would read:


IGNORE THAT 
AND
CARRY ON 

 … 


“That,” meaning the child on the floor throwing a fit, the other child licking the bottoms of shoes, the snot, the spit up every time that baby is on her tummy, her flat head because I don’t make her do enough tummy time because I get sick of cleaning up spit up, the toothpaste on every single mirror in the house – seriously? How? – and our never ending lack of money. THAT.

My cousin Karen sent me this today. It made me laugh, which was a welcome break from trying to CARRY ON.

  
Today I am grateful for my support system. For my mother, who listened patiently to me as I shrieked through the phone that my children are berserk and I must be doing something wrong. For my friends, who call to invite me places or offer to pick up Starbucks. For my gym with childcare.

For my mother-in-law who happily came over to stay with my younger children today so I could get a break. She saw me LOSE IT with Maverick, I’m talking full-on Crazy Mommy, and I don’t think she judged me.

I am grateful that this day seems to be over and I don’t have to listen to another tantrum until tomorrow. And I’m grateful for my smart phone which allows me to take pictures like these, so when I look back I’ll only remember the better parts of my days.


If you are in the position to encourage a woman with children, do it. Right now. Or I’ll eat your brain.

2 thoughts on “Mombie.

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