Kids for sale?

What a day! When Samuel is grumpy, everyone suffers. There is no in between with him. He's either incredibly happy or a huge grump. I think part of the problem is lack of sleep. He woke up around 5 am and never went back to sleep. That means that I am tired and grumpy too. Mornings around here are always crazy. George and Gab leave at 6:30 every morning so I get the kids up, feed them, and out the door. Add a very grumpy four year old and an equally grumpy mom, and it's bound to be bad. Worse than bad. A few hours ago, I would have taken very little money for someone to take my children. I was ready to drop them off at the nearest corner with a sign reading, cute kids for sale, smart, friendly, well adjusted, $20.00 but willing to negotiate the price.


Here's a brief synopsis:

5:30 am
Mom, get up and get me a drink.
It's too early, go back to bed until the sun comes up.
I'm not going to do it.
Ok but I'm going back to sleep.
If you don't get up now, I'm going to be really, really mad.
Just go watch tv and I'll come down soon.

An hour later....
Sophia: Mooommmy! In a very urgent manner. Knowing it will escalate to a full blown yell soon, I get her out of bed and take her downstairs. Where's Samuel? I call him and no response. I go out to the garage and I see him, with Maia, some scissors and a pair of pliers. Too tired to get mad, I ask him what he wants for breakfast.
Nothing.
You have to eat something. Cereal, waffles, egg?
French toast with jam.
I can do that. So I give Sophia her milk, put her in her highchair and make french toast.
Mom, do I have school today?
Yes, honey.
I'm not going.
Yes, you are.
I am going to sit on this couch all day. You can't make me go to school.
You like school, remember.
Not today.
As this point, breakfast is ready.
I don't want jam on it. I want syrup.
You said you wanted jam.
I changed my mind.
Well, I'll put syrup on the top. It will be extra yummy with both.(And have twice the sugar content...)
I don't want milk. I want juice.
We don't have juice for breakfast,
I'm not drinking the milk.
Fine.

At this point, Sophia has managed to throw every single piece of french toast on the floor and she's splashing in the milk that she's dumped all over the tray of her highchair.
At least she's happy.

I'm done, mom.
You ate three pieces.
I'm not eating anymore.
You're brain is not going to work very well today if you don't eat.
I don't care.
Time for your bath.
I don't want to take a bath.
(What a shock.) I am taking Sophia upstairs. You better be up there in two minutes.

Five minutes later.
Samuel! Get up here.
I don't want to.
I am going to come down and spank your bottom.
You can't leave Sophia by herself.

At this point I am ready to kill him so I take a deep breath and very patiently tell him that if I have to ask one more time, I will put every one of his toys in the dumpster. I know I shouldn't resort to stupid threats but I'm tired and it worked. He gets in the bath with his sister.

If I hear your sister crying, I'm not even going to ask, I will take you out and spank you. No bubbles on her head, do not pour water on her and don't take her toys away.

I go and get their clothes together. I hear Sophia laughing. Samuel has poured water on her, she has bubbles on her head and he has one of her toys. But she's not crying.

Brush your teeth.
I don't want to.
I don't care. Brush them.

I take Sophia out and get her dressed.

Time to get out, Samuel. We need to leave for school in 10 minutes.
I'm playing.
I'm going downstairs to make your lunch. Get out of the bath and get dressed.

Five minutes later.
Samuel!! We have to go.
I don't want to wear that shirt. I want to wear my guitar one.
Choose your battles, choose your battles, choose your battles.....
Ok, I'll get it.

Finally dressed. We are ready to walk out the door.

I take a quick look at myself. My hair is not brushed. I have syrup all over my shirt but no time to change.
In the car, Samuel asked me what day it was.

Thursday, honey.
Mom, do we have a show and tell, today?
Shoot. I forgot.
Mom. We have to have one!! It has to start with "G".
Let's look in the car and see if we find one. I look frantically on the floor for some abandoned toy that hopefully starts with a G.
How about the gross goo stuck on the seat. Can you take that?
Mom... starting to cry. I have to have something!
Sophia is now yelling Moooommmyyy. It starts quietly but ramps up to a ear piercing scream. MMMMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMYYY!!!! So I have a screaming toddler and a very upset crying boy who life is forever destroyed because I forgot his stupid show and tell. So, I stop the car, pop the trunk and pray that there is something green in there. Thankfully, I see his green soccer ball. He is satisfied.


We get to school, only ten minutes late. Not too bad, considering the hell I've been through. He goes in without complaint, runs into his classroom and gives his teacher a big, enthusiastic hug.
Is that the same kid that gave me an absolutely awful morning? I guess he was as ready to get away from me as I was from him.

I won't even go into the rest of the day. What Sophia tried to put in the toilet and Samuel tried to flush. The journey my cell phone had on the back of the car. My blind student who called me a stupid idiot and told me to leave. I could go on.

When George got home, I handed him the kids and left for a few hours. They were asleep when I got back. I peaked in on them and kissed their soft, warm cheeks. Thankfully, not everyday is like today.
Next time you see a disheveled looking mom, give her a kind smile, maybe buy her a Starbucks. Don't judge her dirty kids or the stains on her shirt. If her kids are misbehaving, don't criticize.

Motherhood is the hardest job in the world.