So, getting back to today. First thing in the morning, Lydia is begging me for a particular dress to wear to tour her new preschool. It's in the dryer, so I head over to pull it out. I wonder how long it's been since the lint trap was cleaned, and I discover (with slight gagging) that it has picked up much more than link in the moving van. Gross. I don't want that lint wad loose in the garbage, so I stuff it in a half empty Sobe bottle that was left out over night, screw on the lid and toss it.
I'm quickly trying to get breakfast ready with Lydia begging to get me to be involved with her pretenting. This is hard as Collin is screaming for his breakfast. He immediately believes he has been starved for a week once I start to prepare any meal, and it makes the cooking process unfortunate at best. Suddenly I am struck by a moment of silence which could only mean one thing. Trouble. I whirl around to see Collin drinking the lint wad filled Sobe!!!! I scream, lunge at him and smack the bottle away from him. I pry his mouth open to pull out any visible globs.
Moments later I am standing in the once clean kitchen that is now covered in discusting lint juice. My baby is screaming at deafening decibels and Lydia is in the background still whining "play with me!". I look at the clock. 7:53am. 10 hours until Shane gets home from work.
It doesn't get much better from there on. After breakfast is finally finished and cleaned up, we head over to the bank to open a new account so Shane can get paid. Lydia quietly colors, but Collin sees only one option. Escape. I soon find myself the woman I swore I would never become, as I sprint around the bank every 2 minutes as Collin dashes into bank managers offices and tripping innocent customers. I, of course, try to hold him on my lap, but the shrill desperate screaming tends to bother the rest of bank staff. No rookie mommy, I have snacks on hand, but the moment I unzip the baggy of cherrios, Collin rips them from my fingers and dumps them unceremoniously over the stack of papers I was just asked to sign. Lydia immediately drops to the floor and starts to eat the discarded cereal, and I try to pull her from her imitation of a hover vacuum as Collin continues to shriek at the loss of his munchies. (He polished off the fruit bars on the way to the bank.)
The bank agent was very sweet. She even slipped me a card with the name of her daytime babysitter whom she highly recommends. Is it wrong I am thinking of putting Collin in daycare twice a month or so, just for a break?
We ate Wendy's hamburgers in the car.
Now I am sitting on the bathroom floor, laptop propped on my knees, ignoring my bathing children who have discovered that they can make a "tooting" noise with the nasal aspirator and are laughing hysterically. I am literally covered with a dozen unknown substances that have made their way onto my clothes with verbs like: smear, spit, throw, wipe, cry...and others I won't name. I know Shane secretly wonders why I only choose the Target t-shirts from my closet during the weekday. However, I have lost too many cute little numbers due to a thrown roasted beet or spit spaghetti sauce, to risk it.
I know I have so much to be grateful for. Truly, my children are usually very well behaved. But right now, all I can think is THIS IS REALLY HARD.
In better news, I have exactly two places in the house just they way I want them.
A Barefoot Contessa cookbook corner in the kitchen. (Did anyone else die laughing when Liz Lemon started talking about the Barefoot Contessa on 30 Rock last week? Awesome!)
Some happy yellow behind the kitchen sink.
Oh. Did you think I meant entire rooms? Ha ha, no. In fact, I am still getting over the paralyzing terror of walking in to our living room the day we moved to find this:
I claim no talent in home decorating. I don't even know where to start.
I must must must start watching HGTV.
Bath is done. I think we are all going to bed early today.