Wednesday Morning

Today is garbage day. I haven't posted in awhile because I have enjoyed putting that energy toward other things. This morning was cute and inspiring though. After waking up 6 times to use the restroom because someone is oh so active on my bladder, and another little someone decided at three a.m. he needed to crawl into bed with mom and be carried back to his own room for a fitful remaining few hours of sleep… then being woke up early again by the annoying screech and rattle of the garbage truck and a pounce from that same little person who pounced at me at three o'clock….

I'm wondering if I slept at all. But this was a lot of fun this morning! I'm glad I didn't miss it.

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Caution: Contents May Be Hot!

My coffee needed a "Caution: Contents May Be Hot" label on it this morning. I burned my tongue. I never burn my tongue on my own cup of coffee! Then flashbacks of my little fellow standing up by the coffee maker and pulling every button he could find before I caught him came through my mind. Sure enough, when I looked, the temperature knob was turned up as high as it could go.

That reminded me of other random stuff around my house that just stop and make me laugh. Things I know that I know that I know will be missed some day. Like the fireman figure that was waiting on the other side of the window sill to greet me this morning when I opened the blinds to let in the sun.

The motion-activated fire engine that was apparently parked under our arm chair and produced its authentic siren sound when the lady who was attending Bible Study Monday night dared to turn her body. Who knew?

My Not-So-Simple Daybook

For Today, Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Top Ten Reasons Why Today Will Not End Soon Enough

1. I have been fighting, chasing, arguing, directing, and re-directing an extremely energetic, ever increasingly whiney, obstinate two year old since 7 o'clock this morning. Note to self ten…. Even FIVE… years ago: Mothers do not have Sunday rests, sick days, or rest in general.
   
2. My son has discovered how to easily climb out of his crib, making my naps non-existent from this point on… erasing peace and relaxation while he cries himself to sleep… instead, coming in and haunting my few moments with… "Hi Mom!" and a joyous, victorious, proud, and mischievous smile pasted on his face. Making the simple beginnings of nap time extend to thirty minutes of back and forth lifting and carrying… which is growing increasingly difficult for my own self.
   
3. My super great lunch plans were thwarted by the fact that I should have had the crock-pot on High instead of Low (who knew? That's what I get for trying to make my own recipe).
   
4. It's hot, way hotter than I expected for the day. Making me extremely uncomfortable in the outfit I chose for today… and no one's air conditioning seems to be working… the heat and discomfort are causing my annoyance level to go even higher.
   
5. Guess who did not have wipes for someone's poopy diaper in church?
   
6. How many times must I drop food on myself, drop silverware and dishes on the floor… in ever increasing regularity? How many stains and soakings will all my clothes have to endure? How can I feel so incompetent?
   
7. Why do I have to be so emotional and want to cry, cry, cry, at everything today?
   
8. Hearing my son say "No!" to every single…. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. I. SAY.
   
9. Whining… constant whining… I dared to leave following Daddy home from church so he could see the fire engines like usual coming home from church. Drama: "Daddy's gone! No, no, no! Daddy's gone." Pulling up in the driveway and SEEING Daddy: More drama: "No, no, no… Reed's house! A go Reed's house." To which I could only pull his kicking feet and wiggling body out of the car, lest he be overcome with heat being left in the car (beware winter, Young Lad) and plopped him in our lawn, leaving him to put on a great show for the neighbors. Sweet tea and (yet to be discovered un-finished) lunch were waiting inside.
   
10. I have to go back to church, pack this kid in the car and do the above for another six hours. I could go crazy. Don't talk to me or ask me how I'm doing. I will melt into a bundle of tears, huddle on the floor and rock slowly back and forth.