One of Those Days

We've had one of those days today. There was not much of this going on

But this one was into everything. I think she was trying to see how big of a mess she could make. It went really well in case you were wondering.
What an appropriate toy she found (it's a devil's pitchfork if you can't tell) while we were cleaning the basement - yeah, it's a disaster at the moment .
And this was her running away when I tried to change her diaper. Awesome.


Even when I tried to be a great mom and take these kiddos to the park, nothing went right. The stroller was packed, Mady was in the front carrier crying her eyes out and Sydney was running around whining and fussing. We were about to walk out when Mady spewed all over me. Out of the carrier she came while I cleaned me, it, and the floor (she cried the whole time). Sydney wouldn't stop fussing, so she got put down for a nap and the whole park excursion got cancelled. It just went on and on today, so it seemed completely appropriate when I found this poem while cleaning out the aforementioned basement earlier:

The baby is teething; The children are crying. Your husband just called and said "Eat dinner without me."
One of these days you'll explode and shout to all the kids, "Why don't you just grow up and act your age!" And they will...
Or, "You guys get outside and find something to do -- without hurting each other And don't slam the door!" And they don't.
You'll straighten their bedrooms until it's all neat and tidy, toys displayed on the shelf, hangers in the closet, animals caged. You'll yell, "Now I want it to stay this way!" And it will...
You will prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't had all the olives picked out and a cake with no finger traces in the icing and you'll say, "Now this is a meal for company." And you will eat it alone...
You'll yell, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No screaming, Do you hear me?" And no one will answer.
No more plastic tablecloths stained. No more dandelion bouquets. No more iron-on patches. No more wet, knotted shoelaces, muddy boots or rubber bands for ponytails.
Imagine.... a lipstick with a point, no babysitters for New Years Eve, washing clothes only once a week, no PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree, no car pools, blaring stereos or forgotten lunch money.
No more Christmas presents made of library paste and toothpicks, no wet oatmeal kisses, no more tooth fairy, no more giggles in the dark, scraped knees to kiss or sticky fingers to clean.
Only a voice asking, "Why don't you grow up?" And the silence echoes: "I did"

After reading it the first time (and almost crying) I had to just sit down and hug Sydney - Mady was blissfully asleep at the moment. I need good reminders like that sometimes to keep me from getting frustrated too much. Tomorrow we're attempting the zoo. Who doesn't love 74 degree days in March? Halle-freakin'-lujah for that zoo pass we have.