Sometimes KIDS Know Best

I realize that I’ve pretty much done nothing but moan and groan over the past two weeks with the hubby being out of town for so frickin’ long.  Can I help it, though, if my fairy godmother decided to go off on a bender and that the shadow of doom chose to make my household its bitch?  No, unfortunately, I cannot.  Surprisingly, however, there HAVE been two small incidents that brought about a much-needed smile across my tired, weary face.  When you’re at the end of your very frayed rope, little things mean a lot.

A couple of nights ago during bath time when I was on the verge of running off to join the circus, my son must have somehow sensed my desperation.  The dog had just chewed up my favorite slippers, the dirty laundry looked like Mount Kilimanjaro, and I had refereed more than my fair share of fights for the day.  So when I saw that my daughter had then turned the tub into a damn wave pool, I had no other choice but to begin my transformation into Mean Mommy.  My lid was just about to flip when I felt a little pair of arms envelop me from behind like a warm blanket.  I glanced over my shoulder to see my amazingly perceptive little guy smiling sweetly at me as if to say that everything was gonna be alright.  Just that teensy tiny little hug was all I needed to get me through the rest of that long day.

And maybe it’s a twin thing because my daughter, too, must have had a feeling that Mama was at her breaking point.  It was after yet another nerve-racking afternoon that she holed herself up with some paper and crayons and forbade me from entering the room.  She claimed that she was working on a surprise for me that was “super duper top secret.”  I grumbled about the wreck of a mess that had taken over the kitchen and struggled to keep my heavy eyelids open.  All I wanted to do was to crawl into bed and forget about all the madness of my frickin’ world.  And that’s exactly the point that my angelic little girl presented me with this:

I “fink” it was just what I needed to snap me out of my funk.

Kids really are amazing, aren’t they?!

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Roll Out the Red Carpet!

So, today is my birthday, (happy birthday to me!), and for the life of me, I cannot understand why some people feel weird about telling other people that it’s their birthday.  It’s the one day where you might possibly get some sort of special attention that you might not otherwise receive.  Who wouldn’t want that?!  You kidding me?  I most certainly do!  I’m just a squirrel trying to get a nut.  Bring on the special treatment!  I want to wear a shirt all day today that says, “YOU HAVE TO BE NICE TO ME TODAY BECAUSE IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” People generally do tend to treat you better if they know that it’s your big day.  Maybe if I advertised a bit more, all those crazy mom drivers blocking the carpool line at kindergarten drop-off this morning would’ve hightailed it out of the way for the birthday girl.  And maybe the selfish little man that zoomed in front of me at the car wash would’ve allowed the honorable me to have first dibs.  Believe you me, I’ve been reminding my kids for days that Mommy’s birthday is coming up. And I’m sure I’ll be reminding them every single five minutes all day long when they continuously forget that I’m supposed to be the queen for the day.  I know it’s a pipe dream, but I’m holding out hope for the red carpet and rose petals. Realistically, though, I’ll settle for their little hugs and kisses and no trips to the emergency room.

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My Rock Star Moment

Coming home from any vacation is never easy, much less a child-free one. Talk about being thrown right back to the wolves!  There is absolutely no recovery time built in whatsoever.  That first blast of cold air in the face as you walk out of the airport is a major wake-up call that it’s back to reality. I have to say though that the absolute best thing about coming home is the awesome welcome reception I receive from my little devils.  As much as I dream about the peace & calm of being away from them for a few days, there is really nothing better than their ear to ear smiles & ginormous hugs when I walk in the door.  They appear to be in absolute awe over the sight of me in the flesh.  I almost expect them to ask for my autograph.  I am quite certain that it is about the only time I will ever feel like a rock star. Now, granted, this is all a short-lived experience before the bickering, whining and complaining begin, but in that brief flicker of a moment, I soak it up and appreciate every bit of that admiration because I know that I will soon go back to being the maid, cook, chauffeur and entertainer. Guess that’s my five minutes of fame…but, hey, I’ll take it!

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