i kid you not...

it has been a morning.

You know, one of those mornings...

Truthfully, it started last night. One of the unpleasant side effects of prednisone Michael deals with is restless leg syndrome. Last night his legs became rather jumpy right as I was dozing off. A little while later as I was close to falling asleep again, our shaking, creaky bed woke me up. Then we both were awake, he was having a horrible migraine and I was having mixed emotions of pity for Michael and irritation that I couldn't get to sleep. He ended up on the couch.

So, of course, you know the way it always seems to work. The times you feel really tired and need to have a little extra sleep~ that is the time that your kids will decide that they will wake up super early. If you haven't experienced this yet in motherhood, you will.

6:40am. All three kids. Wide awake & like little baby birdies with their beaks open, squeaking to be fed. I manage to open my eyes enough to get out of my pjs, the kids fed and Michael out the door for work. Did you get breakfast babe?? I don't even remember....

In the process of getting the kids dressed, Emma brings a poo-covered piece of toilet paper to me. "Look mom!" Gross. Why? What? !!! Please go put that in the toilet where it belongs. "It was on my panties. Sorry Mom, I had an ax-i-dent".

hmmmm.

As I worked on getting my already potty-trained almost 4 year old cleaned up, I went into the kitchen to throw something away only to discover that Ethan had managed to pull himself up to the trash can, open the lid and dig through the trash and grab one treasure for himself: a used coffee filter. The kid was covered in coffee grounds from head to toe, not to mention the kitchen floor. And he was giggling with sheer excitement as he flung the filter in the air and shook it some more.

I had just gotten Ethan out of the bath when I heard a knock at the door. It took every ounce of kindness I had for me not to slam the door in his face after I told him several times that now was not a good time for me to talk. Comically, he was trying to sell educational stuff for kids. While I stood there with a wet, naked squirmy baby in my arms, a dramatic girl wailing for help in the background, Elliot running around like a crazy loon half way dressed for the day, and my appearance not having received any attention at all. He kept asking if he could come back in a week or so. And for some strange reason, I found myself feeling the need to explain that my husband was facing major surgery. "Oh, I'm sorry...well this would only take five minutes of your time." I. don't. have. time. OR MONEY to spend on that right now. unless you are going to get in my house and start cleaning up and helping with these children, I suggest you high tail it out of here. He asked again if he could come again next month. aggravation. I was seriously being very gracious and patient with the guy, but finally I was just like, "Look, my husband is having major surgery in a few days. We will be out of commission for several months. I am not interested at all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have three small demanding children to take care of." I was annoyed with myself that I even answered the door. If Elliot hadn't beaten me to the door, it would've been easier to ignore him and pretend noone was home.

It was only 8am.

The next hour included dealing with cranky children, finding out the cost of one of the surgery meds Michael needs for prep, and being unintentionally being peed all over by E2.

You can laugh. Because that is what I'm doing now.

I kid you not.