On the brink of “mommy insanity”…

It’s been a tough week.

I’m not sure why…maybe because this month has been so busy with visitors and vacation and I have gotten used to having other adults around to change poopy diapers? Or maybe I’m just having a hormone surge and everything is irritating me? Or maybe I’m just whipped from being “on the job” almost every waking moment of the day?

Whatever the reason, it resulted in me being totally on the brink of “mommy insanity” by the time Thursday rolled around. I can’t really explain it, but it’s sort of a twitchy, jump out of your skin, head and shoulder tension, short fuse sort of feeling…and it is not really from any one thing. It is really from mounds of little things that just munch away at your zen-like center until the only thing that is left is little crumbs of patience that get smashed underneath your feet.

Appetizing, huh?

So, I started to scribble down all these “little things” as Thursday progressed, because I simply could not believe everything that was happening…here’s a sampling…

I hear a scream, closely followed by “Parker hit me…in the face”. I go into the living room to see Parker rocking the recliner vigorously, and Madi standing by the chair holding her face. I try to convince Madi that it was an accident that she got bonked while convincing Parker to stop rocking the recliner up off the ground.

She quickly recovers to type an e-mail message to Aunt Kristin, which I have to first write on a piece of paper and then she types it out…Parker insists on doing the same thing, but he punches all of the buttons and turns on my number lock, activates the sticky keys, and opens five different applications. He quickly tires of this, and instead finds his favorite orange crayon and scribbles all over the pictures of his cousins on the fridge. I am somewhat relieved, because at least he didn’t duplicate his other artistic endeavors of drawing on the recliner, bathroom and kitchen walls, and toilet.

I can’t believe that I am relieved.

I rescue the picture and the crayon, and then get out Madi’s art project of the day. It is a stained glass pot thingamajig, that involves using black paint to create the raised outline and then using the colored paint to create a stained glass effect on little plastic pots. I tried to paint the outlines on one pot the night before, and it is ridiculously hard. (I really wanted her pick out something different to no avail). Now she insists on doing the outline herself. I can’t convince her otherwise…so I reluctantly leave her to it.

I turn around to find Parker creating a swath of destruction across the living room, with his ride-on train ready for me to trip on, artwork from the fridge thrown all over the kitchen, and games opened up and dumped out on the living room floor. I leave it all…Fiona needs to be nursed.

While I am feeding Fiona, Madi finishes her pots, and Parker yells, “I have to go potty!” This means he has already gone, and needs his diaper changed, but instead Madi takes his shorts and diaper off, and helps him sit on the potty. He doesn’t go on the potty, but instead goes on the carpet, because he doesn’t have a diaper on and I can’t put it on because I am feeding Fiona.

Then, our neighbor stops by and they run around the front yard for a few minutes. Madi gets a ball out of the garage to play with, throws it to Parker, who then promptly runs off and throws it into the backyard so no one can play with it. Then, he runs and flops onto the grass about 10 times. Madi goes inside to “check her pots” and go to the bathroom. She leaves the towel in the sink with the water dripping…thankfully I caught it before it overflowed.

I’m tired already.

We hit the road to go get library cards for Madi and Parker. The counter has a lovely ledge, perfect for hanging onto and jumping up and down. Parker jumps up and whacks his head on the bottom of the ledge. He cries at the top of his lungs, causing the entire library to stare in our direction. Madi repeats over and over…”Where’s my card?” while wiggling all over the lobby. I tell them both to just “stand still for one minute”. They don’t. Fiona starts to cry, and everyone stares in our direction again. We grab our cards, some library books, and dash out. In the van, Parker closes the door again, even after I have told him not to do it probably 50 times.

I sound like a broken record.

Lunchtime. Madi wants me to read our library books while we eat. I say no, because I am eating my own lunch and trying to address some thank you notes, because Fiona is actually sitting in the bouncy seat and enjoying it. She whines…I hold firm…so instead, she asks me after each envelope who I am sending it to. I grit my teeth and answer oh so sweetly who each card is going to, and finish my lunch just in time for Fiona to need to eat too. I read the library books while nursing Fiona and protecting her from being sat on by the other kids who are sitting on either side of me. I read six books.

I’m ready for naptime.

All three kids are either sleeping or in bed. I sit down and contemplate my options. I could either clean up the disaster area or I could stare at the ceiling and try to combat the tension headache that has made its way up to my eyes. I opt for the zone out option, because Parker is sitting up in his bed singing and he will be trotting down the stairs soon.

I get 20 minutes. No one naps.

Fiona napped earlier, so she only sleeps about 20 minutes. Parker came down after singing and talking in his bed for 30 minutes. He goes and gets Madi 20 minutes later, who is not sleeping either. It results in a screaming match…”Go away, Dubs!” “No, Sissy!” “Go away, Dubs!” “No, Sissy!” I can’t referee, because I’m feeding Fiona…again.

Parker wants to fingerpaint. He smears paint all over the tablecloth, the paper, and his hair. In the meantime, Madi wants to make a princess crown with sequins, glue, and silver stickers. The glue doesn’t work…the sequins need to go into a bowl…Fiona is crying. I put her in the sling and she falls asleep. I’m glad that she doesn’t want to do an art project.

We decide to make a blueberry pie from the berries we picked last week. Both kids have to drag their chairs over to the counter to “help”. Parker spills sugar all over the floor. Madi insists on getting the broom, swiffer, and dustbuster out to clean up. This distracts her from making the pie and now she wants to clean the house.

I finish the pie.

Ben comes home for dinner, and says I look like either I don’t feel well or I am going to pass out. I go to look in the bathroom mirror, and he is right, just not very tactful. I step back from the edge of insanity, and enjoy the extra set of hands.

I can’t believe that I made it.