My day began with "Mom! I want MILK!" 5 seconds later my diabetic son was rifling through the fridge while I hollered "Wait until I check your blood sugar!" My eyes were grainy with sleep because I was up for several hours in the night with a headache. You know what's the only great about television at 1:30am? Channing Tatum! So beautiful... So I stumbled through the house, barely able to see, washed some little hands, pricked a little finger and then got into an argument about which milk jug we should use. I won(we always use the opened milk first) and then I went about preparing for my morning workout.
I have been looking forward to a leisurely bike ride for several days. Weekends are the only time I have to ride in the morning sunshine and I eagerly anticipate these days of freedom. The streets are empty on Sunday mornings so I don't have to fight so much traffic which is what makes it utterly perfect. I pulled my hair back into my cyclist bun and....
"Mom! I'm hungry!"
I only had about 60 minutes before I needed to shower for church. I could either hop on my bike, leave my four year old diabetic son to pilfer the fridge, and "enjoy" my ride or..... start making breakfast. Well, it is Mother's Day. So I skipped my ride.
I made whole wheat banana chocolate chip muffins, much to the joy of my boys who gobbled them down like starved monkeys. They hadn't licked up the last crumbs before they were trying to gouge each other's eyes out. Queue me, "Boys, please don't fight. It's Mother's Day!" To which they snorted and then resumed gouging.
"Mom, my throat hurts!"
Son #2 began moaning two minutes before we walked out the door. So I gave him some drugs and rolled us into the car. I was determined to get to church on time. It was a glorious(but cold) morning and I slurped my smoothie while cruising. No muffins for me(too many carbs!).
Church was fabulous. My pastor preached on some of my favorite verses and I just wholeheartedly embraced the service. Then we stopped by Trader Joe's for my favorite snack, dried apricots, and began to drive home.
"My throat hurts!" He was more insistent this time and my shoulders began to droop as I drove. The petty arguments broke out again and I sighed. I'm accustomed to driving while the WWF wrestling team wrassles in the back seat. I have earned that badge of honor. So of course we made it home with no crashing. But I will admit that my hair has a lot more silver in it lately.
I will digress here a bit. When boy #3 arrived at Sunday school he told the teacher there were goblins at home under his bed. And yesterday he made a point to announce to everyone, everywhere that there were monsters with us. Every time he talks about monsters I think, "Yes, there are monsters everywhere I go. And yes, they are born of my loins.
Which brings me to the second best part of my day, Massage Envy. I don't get massages because they're fun. I'll be honest. They are a medical necessity. I deal with chronic pain and they are just about the only thing that relieves it. Within 5 minutes I was in tears(of relief). I am SO thankful for my massage therapist.
I stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up yogurt. Okay. That's not entirely truthful. I was hiding. I didn't want to go home. And since I love food the grocery store is a happy place for me. I stopped by the deli counter and picked up some salami. I told the man behind the counter that I needed it because when I got home, if my children started pestering me I could distract them by throwing salami at them. (My kids LOVE salami) He said, "Good idea. Throw it to them and run!" You see, he's met my kids. Last time I was there he asked me why I don't get a babysitter to go to the grocery store." :/
The rest of the afternoon has been a blur. I only had to pause my movie(that I taped 2 months ago and finally found time to watch) about 30 times. But butts have been wiped, bread for lunches has been baked, laundry has been folded and hot tea with honey has been consumed. All in all, it has been a good Mother's Day. And I would be willing to write some really wonderful, inspirational stuff about how much I love my children and how grateful I am to be their mom, but child #3 is screeching like a banshee and if I don't get him chocolate ice cream in a cone RIGHT NOW the world will end. And we wouldn't want that, would we?
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