The Easter Party of Doom

I have a great idea. Let's take a teeny tiny room, fill it with 12, 4 year olds, all of their parents, a bunch of craft materials, and me and my angry baby.

Oh yes, today was preschool Easter Party day. I loathe preschool parties. My angry baby was the center of attention. Probably due to her screaming and yelling. At one point about 5 of the kids had her cornered and were all talking to her. I tried to intervene saying, "Careful honey, she may bite you." "Please don't touch her, she'll hit." It was horrifying. Luckily, only one kid got slapped. After that, they all kept their distance.

When craft time rolled around, she was all up in the glitter and crayons and, yes, glue. There was glue there. I was trying so hard to glue that dang bunny with my son while keeping her out of the crayons and away from the glue. I was literally sweating. It was the ugliest bunny you've ever seen. I didn't cut it right, and it just had quick glops of glue on it. When we left, I tried to leave it behind but one nice mom brought it to me. A reminder of the day.

After the tantrum from coming inside dyed down, I decided I needed to make my getaway early. I grabbed finished crafts, plastic eggs and started stuffing them in my sons backpack. Fake Easter grass was spewing from every crack in his bag. I threw it on him and politely said my goodbyes.

Only one more party left. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

One Hot Mom ... or not so much.

The nice weather has gotten me out of my funk. I had it going on the other day. I showered. That in itself is awesome. I was wearing my new denim capris, my cute little Coach flip flops and a tee. My hair was done for once... if you could call it that. I was feeling great.

I picked my son up from preschool and we headed out into the world to get some lunch. Without hesitation I was able to carry my daughter, three beverages, and two trays to our table (thanks for the help employees) with ease. I was feeling confident, happy and for once, like I could do this whole mom of three gig.

That's when I looked down at my shoulder and realized my cute little tee was on completely inside out. DOH! Perhaps that's why the preschool teachers were giving me funny looks while I was talking to them.

I surrender.

The Best Day Ever (Think Spongebob)

The other day was a normal day. I had to take my son to the dentist along with the terror - I mean my daughter. When I woke up I started to get going when my husband announced, "I think I'll work from home today."

My eyes lit up like on Christmas morning. "Um, that's cool. Do you think you could watch the baby while I take Jake to the dentist?" He agreed and I was out the door laughing like a mad woman. I"m pretty sure there was smoke from my mini-van tires.

The hygienist took my son back to "tickle his teeth". I wish that's what they would do to me when I go back there. And there it was.... a large leather couch with magazines all around and a little coffee bar. I was in heaven. I had a whole 25 minutes of sitting, not doing anything. I drank my coffee and read a magazine. It was glorious.

There were no temper tantrums, no runny noses, no crazy baby eating things off the floor. It's strange how 25 minutes and a big leather couch can make me so happy. Maybe I need therapy. Oh YES! More couches and quiet time! I'm sold.

A Pain in the Teeth

Teeth. Who needs em?

Teeth seem to be a sore subject in my house these days, literally.

I've got one kid loosing them left and right. Every meal brings on the drama about how she can't eat because her tooth is loose. My menus have to be planned around the wiggleness of her tooth. Whenever a tooth is just about to come out, we look forward to a show of crying, jumping around, whimpering, and mad amounts of "look at me" drama. Fabulous.

I also have another kid getting some new teeth. Again, I've enjoyed days of screaming, crying, spitting, diarrhea and general whining. There's a bit of fear in me too because I know that with those teeth, the inevitable biting will soon come.

And then there is my poor son, in the middle of the two extremely dramatic girls. I'd just be happy if he would remember to brush his teeth once in awhile.

The Poop Has Commeth

Diarrhea, cha cha cha! I'm surrounded, blah blah blah.

The stomach bug has moved in. The kids have it. The baby has it. The dogs have it. Why don't I have it? Because I'm the lucky one who gets to clean it all up. I'd rather have it.

You've heard of projectile vomit? We'll I'd like to introduce you to projectile diarrhea. My baby has perfected her aim. It shoots out of the back of her diaper and onto the floor, bed, etc. It's lovely.

Of course this all happens when my husband is out of town, in Orlando, "working." Poolside, I'm sure. I want a job.