Ten minutes I’ve been home from taking my two oldest to school (yep, they’re IN school), and my dominating thought as I look around the house is, “OMG, I need to clean this hell hole!”
I’m sure the house isn’t in as much dissary as I imagine it to be, but nonetheless, this is where my day begins.
The drive home from drop-off was filled with expectations of a quiet day. Two out of three kids gone for a few hours and homemade brownies waiting for me on the kitchen counter.
I don’t bake often. It’s not that I’m bad at it…I just hate doing it. Every time I bake, the kitchen gets covered in flour, which then takes me months to clean in its entirety. Seriously – flour gets in alllll the cracks and crevices. Anyway, the grocery store bakery usually works just fine for me and, BONUS, I can usually pretend I made whatever little delight I purchased.
So, this morning, I was really looking forward to some coffee and actual homemade brownies.
(By the way, brownies for breakfast is TOTALLY justified when you realize it’s no worse than one or four doughnuts.)
Unfortunately, my dreams of a quiet, easy morning were crushed the moment I walked through the door.
My two darling doggies, Penny and Eleanor ATE MY FREAKING BROWNIES. The entire container-full!
Don’t worry, they’re fine. This isn’t the first time Dumb & Dumber have eaten an entire something full of chocolate.
So, the dogs ate my breakfast brownies, I’ve got a cold cup of coffee, and a toddler who is now dragging a kitchen chair toward the refrigerator, yelling, ” mom! Ice cream!”
After I yank the kid away from the fridge, I start cleaning up the living room, where the dogs have eaten half of the container itself, along with the brownies. My too-intelligent-for-MY-own-good Little Man sees this as his perfect opportunity to continue his quest for breakfast ice cream.
After finishing my mini cleaning mission, I find my Guy, sitting on the kitchen floor, half gallon open, spoon out, and a huge devilish grin on his chocolately face.
I sigh, but ultimately yield to his brilliance, considering 15 minutes ago, I was all set to eat a brownie.
Toddler & dogs, 2 – Mom, zip.
Since there is now apparently no chocolate left in the house, I decide to eat a boring, heart-healthy bowl of Cheerios instead. I tell myself, “OK, I’ll eat my Cheerios, drink my cold coffee, then conquer the giant mound of laundry in the living room!”
No such luck.
Now, it’s time to talk to bill collectors on the phone.
No. Stop it. I’m not airing my money problems to the public.
These are “I tried to make a payment, but the website crashed, yet my account shows ‘payment pending,’ so now I have to talk to 12 different people to sort it out” bill collector calls.
Come on. You’ve been there.
You take care of this crap monthly, yet somehow, some way, SOMETHING goes wrong, and you have to spend two hours of your life playing phone tag with different departments.
I’m on the phone with my third representative, writing down dates and account numbers and I suddenly hear it…The sound of NOTHING.
You know damn well that when there’s a toddler in the house and you don’t hear a sound – they’re doing SOMETHING that’s probably going to horrify you.
Luckily, my call is complete (problem, unfixed), so I creep toward the living room once again, expecting to see…Well, God knows what, really.
And, there he is: Little Guy is sitting on the floor, my sharp crafting scissors in-hand, trying to cut crayons and spaghetti squash.
Oh…And in the middle of my once-sorted mounds of laundry.
Can I just ask something here? It’s rhetorical, really, because I know no one could ever have an actual answer…
Do you think he just asked himself, “hmmm, what happens if I cut colored wax and squash with really sharp scissors?”
No brownies, cold coffee, a sugared-up on ice cream toddler, bill collectors, colored wax shavings on the carpet, and some busted up squash.
At this point, it’s close to 11am and my hopes for a quiet day are just dwindling.
I have some more phone tag to play, so I quickly clean up the living room…again…throw a tablet at my toddler (because, I’m THAT mom), and start dialing.
With the assumption I’ll be able to finish up my calls quickly now, I tune out the Daniel Tiger painting game, and focus fully on the task at hand.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, verifying my billing address and husband’s middle initial for the millionth time, when Little Guy comes waltzing back in looking for a snack. I whisper to him to grab some applesauce out of the fridge and continue my call.
Once I hang up the phone, I realize that in addition to the applesauce, he seems to have helped himself to four cucumbers and a Halloween-bucket-full of apples. I can only assume he was saving these for later crafting use, as I found the bucket stashed away in his bedroom.
When I asked what he was doing, my toddler replied, “I’m going to a party!”
At least he has imagination.
It is now mid-afternoon, my house is still a wreck, laundry yet to be folded, and dishes still piled high.
I’ve cleaned the living room twice, re-washed my produce, and spent the day on the phone with Herb from Kentucky.
The funny thing is, as I look around at my giant mess and wonder where the time went, I still see my Little Guy, full of energy and smiling.
His face lights up as I tell him it’s almost time to pick up his siblings.
Everything is just OK.
I’m not mad at him or disappointed with my day. It was what it was.
I may be pulling my hair out as I’m going through days like today, but hey – I signed up for this chaos.
And this beautiful chaos is mine.
I wore this yesterday…
And never put on makeup or did my hair today…
Come to think of it – I think I forgot to brush my teeth…
One thought on “My Beautiful Chaos”
I seem to remember, vaguely days like you just had. I remember throwing a bag of Cheetos at my kids and friends after one particular night of fun with my friends. I was a hit that morning:)