I woke up. Yup, I sure did, popped right out of bed this morning just like a spring chicken! HA! If you believe that I have some ocean front property in Arizona to sell you. Seriously though, I had to set two alarms for my first wake up at 6am and then an additional two for my second wake up.
The first time I woke up, I simply got up, turned off the alarms and drug myself over to Emma's room to make sure was up and moving. I then directed her to make sure Abigail was up and for one of them let let Torros out and back in before they left for the bus. I then shuffled back to my nice warm bed for an additional hour and twenty minutes of blessed rest.
The second time I got up I had to stay up! BOOOOO!!!! I went into Olivia's room and discovered her all ready awake, laying there looking sweet. Actually, I am not sure if she looked any sweeter than another morning that she grumbles all the way to the bus stop! The difference was, she was all ready awake and that makes all the difference in the way my 30 minutes with her goes in the morning. Trust me on this. Why was she awake all ready? It made no sense really until she told me that her belly hurt. So as I go to pull the covers back I realize that she is pull-up-less. The conversation went something like this:
Olivia, where is your pull-up?
In the trash? I had an "accident"?
What kind of accident?
I couldn't make it to the bathroom Mommy.
"Hmmmm where is the pull-up now?
In the trash can Mommy.
Okay, that's a good place for it.
I will not torture you with the events that followed the conversation. Just know that it required a lot of clean-up in the bathroom. *shaking my head* It was also followed by a hot shower for both of us. Her belly still hurt so I decided to give her a little extra time to relax and make sure that she wasn't going to have any more "accidents". When it was time, we hopped in the car and I drove her to school. Good idea in theory but it only encouraged her to ask if I would pick her up to.
After I dropped her off at school, I came home and decided that I had ignored the state of my vinyl flooring long enough. It was very difficult for me to admit I needed to mop. I don't hate mopping. It really isn't the action of doing it, it's the aftermath that is the issue. If you are wondering what the heck I am talking about, you must not have kids! Let me spell this out for you, I spent a good deal of time sweeping, scrubbing and mopping the floor. Literally, it took me an hour to accomplish this fete. No, I don't live in a palace! However, when I mop my floor, I move everything that isn't attached to ensure it gets done right. So the floor is spotless and now the waiting begins.......inevitably someone will be spilling something on this floor by the end of the day - It's guaranteed!
My floors are spotless and completely dry. It's time to go pick up Olivia from school. I let the dogs back in, then Sarah and I load up and head to the kindergarten center to get "Livleah" (This is what Sarah calls her - and it cracks me up!). We get home and walk in the garage door and "WHAT THE HELLO KITTY HAPPENED TO MY FLOOR???" Yes my friends, "Scott's" dog (pets are no different than children they are both of yours until they do something wrong) had apparently thrown up all over my freshly scrubbed floor! Worse yet, he also managed to throw up on the adjoining carpet. Obviously, I cleaned it up. Scott also pitched in and steam cleaned the carpet.
An hour later (LITERALLY) Olivia was walking from the kitchen to the living room and managed to cut the bottom of her big toe on the metal like trim that separates the vinyl from the carpet. Do you know where I am going with this? Her toe bled and bled and bled like no body's business all while she walked from the carpet to the vinyl. It was a blood bath people!! Honestly, it wasn't till after I got her all cleaned up and we determined she didn't need stitches that I realized what had happened to the flooring.
I was really stressed out after all of this excitement in my morning/early afternoon and required a regrouping nap. I laid down on the couch and instructed Scott to wake me up in one hour. Obviously confused about the directions I gave HIM to wake me up, Abigail stood before me directing me it was time to get up. In her hand, which can only be explained as a peace offering, was a chocolate covered pretzel. She offered it to me and instructed me to try it. I did, it was yummy and then I wondered where it came from. Apparently while I was napping, she made them. Shortly after this I walked into the kitchen....I digress.
In conclusion, I really don't see the point of my busting my rump to keep my house spic and span. It just isn't realistic to put that kind of pressure on myself. I am not a hamster, I don't run on a wheel,I am over it!
Sincerely,
The Queen of Insanity
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