Clearly God has a sense of humor. I have known this for years, as often I have tried to do something, only for it to turn out totally wrong.. For instance. . . My best friend was raised by her grandmother. Memaw was the type of woman who did not even check the mail without her hair and makeup done. Story has it that when her daughter was in labor with my friend, Memaw took the time to curl her hair before driving her to the hospital.
I drove home from college in a middle of the night rush the day before she passed away. In that rush I conveniently forgot to pack any pants. I stuck around for the funeral, and therefore needed to buy something nice to wear. I bought this really cute black skirt that she would have loved, I matched it with a plain top and a pair of sequined slip ons. After the funeral we went to the cemetery, where my dad started to giggle and handed me his suit jacket. Confused, I took it as he whispered in my ear that the skirt of choice for that day was completely see through, and the entire packed funeral home had seen my rear end. Memaw did request that something funny happen at her funeral, lucky for me I was her target.
Today I prayed for patience. Not sure why but mine was slipping pretty close to the line of downright pissed off and needing to scream. In an effort to not turn into the worlds worst mother ( obviously I can't be that bad, my kids are still alive but hormones have a way of making you think some pretty awful things about yourself ) I have sent my children in the other room and googled Fat Amy video clips. I have heard however that when asking God for Patience what you are really asking for is practice, so you can learn to handle it on your own. That is just what I got today.
My children have screamed and cried and thrown fits. They have pretended not to know things they clearly know, and not to hear things they clearly heard and just ignored. Thankfully there were no potty accidents today, but there were a few slipped bad words ( on their part, not even mine! ) they have had a few knock down fights over a balloon, lots of running in the house and not doing what they are supposed to. Here are a few highlight of my day.
-Ellie decided that rather than eat her yogurt that she literally knocked her brother to the ground over, she would instead take it and fingerpaint the walls and my table.
- JT decided he would conveniently forget how to count. After knowing how to count to at least 10 and most of the time 20 for over a year, today he no longer knows what the number 3 is, or that 6 and 7 come before 8 not after 10.
- Since I was apparently not quick enough at getting my children a drink, I walked into the kitchen to find them taking turns drinking out of a 2 litre of orange soda.
- After being told repeatedly to go in the toy room and clean up the toys, Ellie strolls out of the toy room in nothing but a superhero cape. I have yet to find out where her underwear went, although I located her shirt and pants. She refuses to put any of it back on and therefore is running around completely naked at this point.
- Both of my children, who know fully well that they are not allowed to take the cushions off the couch and jump on them, have been caught numerous times doing just that as soon as I leave the room, including as I type this. I give in.
- I couldnt figure out where Ellie kept getting paper towels since she cant reach the roll, until I found her digging them out of the trash and dipping them in the dog water.
- Both of the kids have found that Porter's carseat is a great place to hide from each other, and since with the base attached it is quite heavy for me to carry up the stairs it sits off to the side of the living room.
- I learned today that Reha is in fact ok with the children attempting to ride her. I have heard the term "Giddie Up Horsie" at least 50 times today. Doberman, Horse.. apparently all the same to toddlers.
I have surrendered. I shall make dinner, dip into the candy stash that I hid from my entire house, and watch something with Adam Sandler in it tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, and if my children happen to be in the same mood I may end up screaming... or locking them in their rooms and watching terrible television. Nothing makes you feel better about your life like an episode of Maury.
