Business as usual.

You know the kind of day where you are just annoyed, for thousand tiny little reasons that individually just sound silly? The kind of day that starts the night before, when the 15-month-old wakes up no less than 3 times during the night. For the 5th night in a row. The kind of day that then morphs into the kind of morning where you scream “SIT DOWN AND EAT YOUR OATMEAL” at one child and say “Well, that’s too bad for you. I can’t give you another bowl of Cheerios  because we have no more milk.”

It’s the kind of day where you get so fed up with your children trying to scam the scone that you are finally trying to eat for breakfast at 10:45 that you think “DAMMIT, FIONA. JUST STOP IT. STOP TOUCHING MY THINGS AND GET OUT OF MY FACE.” Except then you realize you didn’t just think it. You said it out loud. At the rec centre. In a hallway full of mothers waiting with their 4-year-olds for dance class to start. And then you’re that mom.

And then you’re still sitting in that hallway for another hour, because for some reason you thought that having two consecutive dance classes would be a good idea. An hour that includes a soaked through diaper resulting in a 15-month-old running around with no pants on because of course you don’t have a spare pair. And then the 3-yr-old almost makes it to the bathroom but somehow pees on just her skirt and then while you’re trying to convince her that it’s ok, don’t lose your mind, you can still wear your pants and the skirt won’t be ruined because we can wash it at home, the baby takes the 4-yr-old’s socks and throws them into a toilet full of pee water. And you’re not even mad, you’re just relieved that you grabbed her before she threw in the shoe that she had in her other hand.

And by now you are definitely scrapping that idea you had to go grocery shopping after class. You head home, to park children in front of the television and feed them an entire bag of goldfish crackers in lieu of actual lunch because you can’t even make mac&cheese on account of not having any more milk.

And that’s where we are. I have no tidy wrap-up. They’re watching TV and eating goldfish and I’m hiding upstairs drinking a coffee because I just can’t deal today.

There are days like this. There just are.

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