"How has work 'do not rub boogers on your brother's head' been? Did you guys 'GET. OFF. OF. HIM. RIGHT. NOW' do anything for Valentine's Day?"
That is just a brief snippet of our seven minute chat, but you get the idea. I had answered my phone because the boys seemed happy and occupied playing when it rang, but within the first few seconds I was pulling out the crazy head shake, pointing my finger firmly back and forth between my 3-year-old and the corner, and wishing I had let it go to voicemail so I could call back during nap time. When I hung up and thought about what that conversation might have sounded like to someone bugging my phone, I realized that my life as a Mom might be somewhat akin to going insane. Here are five other examples that have transpired just this week:
when I'm trying to sleep. It's mostly my name being called or one of the boys crying and it generally happens when I'm really, really tired and have finally crawled into bed. I think I hear "Mmmmmmmmooom", but I'm not entirely sure it isn't the heat coming on and off, the wind howling or a branch scratching on my window. It tends to be my imagination about 50% of the time, so I have to keep getting up and putting my ear to their doors in case I'm dealing with the other half.
2) I occasionally refer to myself in the plural...
when I'm all alone. I'm ashamed to admit how often this happens. Ryan will come home from work and I'll make a quick run to the grocery store without the boys in tow. I'll be cruising up an aisle with my cart and need to squeeze by someone. I'll politely nod and smile before saying, "Excuse us". But it's only me. I'm so used to having other humans hanging out of the cart that it comes out before I've had a chance to think about it. I usually realize my mistake before I'm entirely past them, but tend to just continue on towards the juice boxes, leaving them to wonder if I realize I'm shopping solo.
3) I sing, play peekaboo and converse simultaneously...
during every shower I take. All the while this is happening outside the glass door:
that I could not see today. Noah is the master chef. He cooks us hamburgers, whips me up three or four strawberry milkshakes an afternoon and occasionally spoils me with his specialty: bug soup. We haven't paid for any improv classes for him (yet), so every meal item he "hands" me is usually in the shape of a cup and I devour them all with great fervor.
5) I can maintain an almost eerie composure in utter chaos...
but the tiniest things will set me off. I really wish this one were not the case, but there are days when I'm being puked on, the floor is covered in Playdough, the boys are poking each other in the eyes and I can take it all in and think, "I love this messy life". Then a few minutes later, I'll be asked for a sucker for the third time in thirty seconds and I'll completely lose it.
I wouldn't trade out a single moment of this crazy week, but if you seem to be getting my voicemail more than you used to or you catch me with a faraway look, I hope you will be willing to "excuse us" and chalk it up to lack of sleep and spending most of my time with people who aren't fully potty-trained (a whole other blog topic). I'm not sure who created this graphic, but I thought it summed things up nicely: