A Whole New Meaning

This week has given a new meaning to the phrase "I've lost a day."

(Okay, maybe this isn't a common phrase in your world, but it is in mine.)

As a result, my posts have been lacking, everything seems behind, and I don't even know where to begin.

Let me explain...

The Husband stayed in town on Monday so that I could be at the hospital for my friend's delivery of her third baby. He left on Tuesday for five days which made me think it was Monday. Then Wednesday, I thought it was Tuesday; this morning I thought it was Wednesday... and so on. I'm not sure where Monday went even though it was an amazing, miraculous day. I'll try to do a catch-up post later.

Anyway, here I am at 10:00 on THURSDAY morning, realizing I not only missed Wordless Wednesday, but now I can't even remember what I intended to post about when I sat down to start typing five minutes ago. This is some kind of a sick metaphor for my life this week.

Maybe if I retrace my steps, I'll figure out where the days went:

Monday: Attended the delivery of my friend's baby. It was an awesome 1 hour and 45 minute labor with an 8 minute water birth. A-Maz-Ing. It made me want to be a doula. (Like I REALLY need another shiny career object to catch my eye right now).

Tuesday: Thought it was Monday so I didn't even consider getting I ready for school. The Husband left town on Tuesday (I think?). At some point, I decided to take the kids - yes, all three - to Hobby Lobby, then for a walk at the park, then to Publix. Insanity. Sheer, unadulterated insanity. Between the L in the Bjorn, and N and I in the stupid torture device for moms called the "car cart", I was my own personal three ring circus venturing through the store with my coupons, list, and reusable bags in hand. This might be the point where I completely lost whatever shred of sanity I had left. On the bright side, I spent $65 and saved $80. Woot?

Wednesday: Okay, this was yesterday. I made one loaf of bread. It didn't rise, so I made another. I also made homemade mac & cheese from here. Can you say party in your mouth??? (Thanks, Ree!!!) At any rate, I realized around 1:00 p.m. that it was actually WEDNESDAY, not TUESDAY which meant it was April 15th which meant, oh (insert explicative here!), TAXES have to be filed TODAY!!! After driving to Little Mexico Gwinnett County to pick up some shirts for an order I have to complete - all the while, N was screaming his lungs off for absolutely NO REASON ... yes, the entire two hours in the car... there and back... door to door - I fix dinner, get the kids bathed and in bed, and the house is quiet by 7:00 p.m. Almost. L is up but seems to be content. Again, I realize in a panic that it's the 15th and proceed to spend three hours working on our mind-numbingly confusing taxes. Have I mentioned that I don't do numbers???

Thursday (Today): This is where the edges of sanity and reality really become blurred. In an apparent attempt to show me that she was not going to be ignored, my normally sweet and even-tempered five month old was up the entire night crying. If I fell asleep, she cried. If I put her down, she cried. If I looked at her wrong, she cried. She was only content if I was holding her on my chest and stroking her hair. Under normal circumstances, I honestly wouldn't have minded a single bit. However, considering the lack of sleep the night before because my three year old decided that she needed "breaksmast" at 3:00 in the morning and the subsequent delerium which led me to actually get up and start to fix "breaksmast" at 3:00 in the morning, I was none too happy about L's sudden ploy for my attention. (In all fairness, she's probably teething?) But the thing is, she would smile at me the second I picked her up, and turn on the puppy dog tears the second I lost eye contact. I hope she puts those dramatics to good use some day.

So, here I am. It's now 10:15... ON THURSDAY. I have no earthly idea which end is up or who's on first. I have had two ginormous cups of coffee (which are sure to upset L's stomach), and I've pumped enough sugar into my system to create a diabetic shock in the bionic man. If you could see me (be thankful you can't!), you would know that none of these synthetic attempts to achieve an alert state have worked.

I'm now faced with the question that plagues all mothers at some point: The house is quiet and the two youngest ones are indulging in a morning siesta; do I a) sneak a nap on the couch and risk being my three year old playing "makeup" with marker on my face or b) take a shower... that's hot... by myself.

Thankfully, the markers are washable.

Love, hugs, and blessings,
The Mama