I roll myself out of bed with a heave and a hoe, and I stumble into the hallway to get everyone some early morning milk, sippy cup style.
On the way to the kitchen I stop to extract the “Cootie” game from the game cupboard, and I watch as my son dumps plastic caterpillar parts all over the floor. My other son marches forward with a thumb in his mouth and a MeMe in his hand.
Soon Shel has traded the MeMe for Buzz Lightyear wings, which are small and made out of plastic but somehow still felt the need to declare “NOT A FLYING TOY” on the back.
I just want to stop and fall asleep on the couch and I wonder where these kids are getting this six a.m. energy from. It doesn’t seem legal.
Instead I play paper airplane race with Q and when he asks me to draw flames on his airplane, I do it with pride, my art degree finally being used in real life. “Dose don’t look like the flames Teacher Stephanie makes, I like hers better.”
He crushes my artistic hopes and hands me a black crayon.
I started cleaning the bathrooms and mopping the floors today, but the Pregnancy Police were against it, and my eyes hurt from a lack of sleep, and I don’t know what a contraction is exactly but now I have my suspicions.
I decided to take the boys to the Dollar Store to buy Daddy a birthday present. I find them in their room where they are both wearing one red and black sock, and my heart swells with pride at this obvious display of “sharing”.
I tell them, “Great job sharing socks!” and Q replies, “Yeah mom. We decided one sock is enough for us.”
Then I realize that some people have become very attached to their sock and will not leave the house without it.
With a sock on their foot and sandals on their feet we get to the store and I watch them touch every party favor and cheap toy in sight, and I gently move them away from the snow globe collection. The snow globes have flip flops and parrots in them, and isn’t that just a sign that this world we live in is a little bit crazy?
I like crazy. I forget about my hurting eyeballs and my half cleaned toilets when I turn around to see Sheldon, wearing flamingo party glasses.
He is killing me.
I have a half washed toilet bowl, and my kids are a fashion disaster…
I hope you have just as beautiful of a day with a healthy serving of crazy.