Friday, April 21, 2017

Day 2,657

I'm on Day 2,657 of motherhood, and I still have no clue what the hell I'm doing. I'm winging my entire life like eye liner.

Life with three sons is basically like a never ending wrestling match and you just happen to be the referee. Thankfully, no metal chairs have been involved, much to their disappointment.  It's constantly shouting out, "Who left the seat up?!!" It means keeping a tally of who missed the potty and got it all over the floor and wall, so that next time you visit a drive thru window, you steal some fries out of that kid's meal, so you get some kind of silent revenge.

I never realized how many different versions the word "mother" had, until my sons learned to talk. And how many times they could say them in a row. We still average over 100 times a day. I'm finding it insane how your favorite title can suddenly be used so many times that you want to lay in a bed of fire ants, light yourself on fire, and go play in traffic. Gooooooodness. Y'all, they sound like a choir that any congregation would be envious of.

I've bought them three packs of socks in two weeks. They keep disappearing. I didn't understand. I thought I was living in some warped dimension of existence, where disappearing socks go through the dryer and come out in the form of extra Tupperware lids. Stop laughing, this is real life. The mystery was solved when I cleaned the living room and behind the loveseat was a pile of dirty socks. Oh, ok. The laundry area is only 20 feet to the left. Kill me now.

My youngest is obsessed with dinosaurs. Weston, he's 5. Any time I try to get serious with him, he puts his arms up close to his chest, cocks his head to the side and roars like a T-Rex. How the hell do I deal with that? Really, how do you parent a T-Rex? He recently lost 3 teeth so I feel even more pressure to play along so he doesn't feel like an inadequate prehistoric carnivore. If it isn't about dinosaurs, sharks, sting rays, or outer space, he just doesn't care. Like, I love that you love science kid, but could you please put your arms down a little so you can handle your fork correctly at dinner time? You're getting peas all over the floor.

Wyatt (older than Weston by 20 minutes, fraternal twinsies) recently discovered gardening, which is really cool. The outside of the house looks nice, and I don't even have to lift a finger. The downside is that he's also the kid outside in his underwear and rain boots in the middle of a downpour, with a watering can, so he can water his flowers. That's right. He waters his flowers when it's raining. It's not a battle I'm willing to pick. So, water on little bit.

Blaine (he's 7 & the oldest) I talked to him today and realized he's probably smarter than me. I don't know what they are teaching these kids but he's some kind of math genius. I'm still using my fingers to add and subtract, he just stares off into space for a few minutes and gets the answer. Is there an invisible calculator on my wall? Where is he getting this?? Did Jesus answer this for you? Now I just keep telling people he's gifted because I feel dumb next to him. I'll be at the store figuring out unit prices, throwing numbers at him because if I do it, I'll be there for a while staring at my fingers trying to recite digits out loud. "Thirteen, carry the one, elventy hundred." WHAT'S THE ANSWER?!

Blaine. "27."


I'm a couponer. Scoff all you want but any time I can save money, I jump on it. Do you realize how much laundry detergent you use when there are three tiny human beings in the house??? My kids open the closet door, "Mommmmmm, there is no room!" Quit complaining. The fact that we have stuff stock piled up, is the for the zombie apocalypse.

Which reminds me, if you tell your children that you'll turn into a zombie if you don't get coffee, they will let you drink your first cup of coffee in total silence. Staring at you, eyes wide, waiting to see if you'll turn. Sick, I know. You're welcome. Throw in a little growl and you're guaranteed a second cup.

I'm sitting here typing this and Wyatt just yelled out, "Weston! I stepped on one of your pterodactyls!"

Day 2,657... I hope there are so many more.