Life of a Mom

I love my children dearly. I love being a mother. But there are days when it takes every ounce of willpower, every last reserve of strength, every bit of patience left in my soul to survive my children. Today was such a day.

Griffin threw up all over the kitchen and me. Then he pooped all over me. I actually looked at my third pair of pants of the day, and asked Chris, "Is this poop or vomit on me?"

I had to clean poop out of the carpet. How it got there, I have no idea. None.

I lost count of the time-outs enforced for the bickering and lack of sharing. At one point, I had to carry Aidan (all 50 plus pounds of him) up a flight of stairs to his room while he kicked and screamed.

No one napped. Not one of my children. Brennan got mad at me after I made him turn off the television, so he yelled, stomped his foot, glared at me and said, "You're a bad momma. Bad!"

Is it wrong that made me cry?

Aidan ran into the garage door. (I have no idea.) The result was a bloodied lip, blood everywhere on him, and some blood to add to the variety of bodily fluids staining many of my t-shirts.

The police came in the midst of all this chaos. They thought our alarm had gone off. They had the wrong address, but still they hesitated at the door of my home . I have a feeling the blood stains on mine and Aidan's shirts gave them no comfort.

Just as I was about to simply give up and allow the kiddies to drone out in front of the tv, we lost power. Cruel, cruel world. Four hours with no electricity. This means four hours with no back up tv on hand. Four hours of just a cranky mommy with three very grumpy children. I hate that damn power company.

I counted the minutes to the 7 p.m bedtime. Maybe even the seconds. Aidan and Brennan went down willingly. But Brennan's repeated howling of his "ABCs" at full volume in the next bedroom got Griffin in such a state, he refused to sleep. He just wailed. I had to rock him for no less than two hours to get him quietly into his crib.

Finally, by 9 p.m., we had power, the boys were all asleep, the house was blissfully quiet and I wore clothes unstained by blood, vomit or poo. And tomorrow, I get to do it all over again. Such is the life of a mom.