DSC_5886Being a parent, and I can only speak for myself but especially a mother, is like Groundhog’s Day. (the movie not the holiday)

Well, while we are on the subject, it’s also like the holiday because when you see that little face poke out from its slumber and you see a shadow, you fucking know “winter’s coming so  buckle up buttercup because it is not going to be a smooth ride!”

But definitely it’s like the movie in the sense that ever day blends together and they are all the same.

First is waking your children up for school and you know that someone inevitably is going to be crying. Reasons for crying: they don’t like breakfast, or they can’t find their favorite shirt (that you have hidden because you are trying to encourage them to wear something else because of that one perfect judgie mom asked you if your washer broke. No, Judge Judy my child just wears that shirt every day because I have no spine, not because I am lazy!!!!) or because they forgot to do their book report assigned to them two fucking months ago, or because they are afraid of something that they saw on the news (and by news I mean history channel, and by something I mean Pompeii) or because the corner of their pop tart broke and they know you did it on purpose. (yes its my evil plan to put myself into an institution so that I can finally get a full night’s sleep)

Once you solve these problems or ignore accusations, you are on to the next thing. This typically involves a thermometer because someone is going to fake sick. It will most likely be the one who still has forty chapters to read of that assigned book report.

Then comes the bartering (HOLY SHIT this sounds like the five stages of grief but its the five stages of getting your fucking kids to school: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. does this sound like your day? I’m onto something) and you say something to the effect of  “Well if you don’t go to school today then you can’t do this fun activity that you have planned for today after school. I mean if you are sick you can’t exactly go to little Toni’s party right?”

Then you finally break your kids’ spirits enough to get them into the car. The ride to school is in silence (because the next stage is depression) except for the toddler whining “That’s mine!!!” (what’s theirs? Who the hell knows, I don’t speak Bapanese!)

You drop everyone off and they get out with slumped shoulders and barely a goodbye (final stage is acceptance) and you drive home with your own personal seagull from the “Finding Nemo” movie. “MINE! MINE! MINE!” As you are driving home you are telling yourself “Today is the day that I finally get that play-doh out of the carpet!” (you never will. You should stop telling you that! That gullible bitch believes every single word you say to her!) You get home and you decide to sit down with your toddler to build puzzles. Ever try to build puzzles with a toddler? It’s the worst torture in the world. How I have never yelled “For Fucks sake that s Elmo’s God damned nose stop trying to shove it up Cookie Monster’s ass it doesn’t go there!” I don’t know.

Then if you have a toddler, more likely you are potty training. I can sum up potty training with a little math, it’s a word problem (If you bring your child to the potty for 2,498 times how many times will they piss their pants? The answer is 5,010.) People asked me “How did you get your child to potty train?” My answer was a shrug and “Is the answer they ran out of clothes?”

You then make your toddler a healthy lunch that you fight over for about an hour and a half before you give them M&Ms and you eat the healthy lunch on the separated plate you have to serve them with because there is no OCD like a fucking child who has their carrots touching their chicken. Finally you have had enough of them and it is time for a nap. I mean, they are tired. The child needs a nap, it’s all about their growth and toddlers need to nap because they….who am I kidding, I need this kid to nap. I need a break and also that fucking play-doh mocks me every time I walk by it. It sounds like a 1930s mobster and it is such a prick. You finally rock and sing and pretend to sleep enough that you finally get the child to sleep ten minutes before you have to leave to go and pick up the others from school. So you need to carry your mammoth baby into the school and sign your name with the challenge of not dropping your seven hundred pound baby on the hard school floor, all the while also not being able to see over their drooling face.

You wait on the bench next to that poor old lady with the beehive hairdo that frightens your little toddler every time she wakes up. This lady is super nice but she is old and she has like ten strands of hair that she has perfectly crafted into a beehive atop her head. She has the most precious eyes and she truly is a wonderful human being but her looks for some reason terrifies my toddler. I always try not to sit next to her but all the other moms have their own sleeping children that probably also are afraid and so now it has become my spot. So I go sit next to this dear woman who is the most gentle spoken lady and I begin to pray that the toddler doesn’t wake up. If she wakes up she is going to look at this woman and freak out. The  kids all begin to come out one at a time and when they call your name you can only hope that it is the right child they are sending you home with.

Once you collect your children and take your poor petrified toddler out of the building you can now go home for snack and homework. My children have to do homework straight after school because they have their sports and activities to get to.

“How was school?” I ask. then I have a follow-up question that I read in a parenting magazine that I found helpful. “What was your favorite part of your day?”

Their answer to the first question was always “Good!” But that second question got answers like the following.

“There was graffiti all over our playground today and the teachers didn’t know it so they sent us out there. Mom I could read all of the words! Do you want me to tell you what they said?”

“No! Please don’t!”

“I could read them and I told the teacher that I knew every single one of them!”

(that insane asylum is looking better and better!)

“S-E-X! Do you know what that spells?”

“That’s enough!”

“They wrote mothereffer! Remember when the dog ate your shoes and you shouted YOU MOTHEREFFER?”

“How about you? What was your favorite part of your day?” I try to change the subject quickly!

“I remember that day. Mom was all like SON OF A B-WORD!” the other one is also refusing to get off of the curse word subject.

“Can we change the subject?”

“mothereffer!” the toddler says.

Perfect…… this is good! I am a great parent. I know at some point I am going to be inaugurated into the worst mothers hall of fame. If I do I promise to blog about it!

Now I have to distract them before I bring them to horseback lessons and they tell everyone about how I yelled out “Motherfucking asshole dog!” I remember that day as well and let me tell you that dog deserved it.

I would do what I called the loop around town. I would have to plan the trip just so…I would first drop off the horseback rider to her lessons and then to the football field and my youngest took dance. Then I would have to loop back to the football field because those coach dads would just leave even if your child was still there alone. Then last at the horse barn and then home. Finding dinner was always fun. One time I ordered pizza and then gave the kids baths and when I noticed that it had been hours I called them back. They were confused and didn’t know what happened. I canceled the order and gave them bagel bites. I get them to brush their teeth and all settled down and the fucking Pizza guy is knocking on my door.

Of course!

My kids then had to eat pizza. One was crying saying “But it’s not fair….you get pizza!” I mean yes, but I don’t actually want pizza. So nobody wins. So as they are eating their late night pizza I am crying because I know that I am not going to get any time to myself. I finally get the kids all tucked in. I go downstairs to lock up the house and I hear “Play-doh Capone’s” voice mocking me saying shit like “You’ll never get rid of me! Do ya hear me? I am going to outlive you!” I did eventually rip that carpet up and put hardwood floors in. So long Play-doh you filthy son of a bitch!!!!

As I lie in bed trying to get some sleep I know that tomorrow it will all happen again. My day starts with the five stages of getting my children to school. I am in the Groundhog’s Day of Parenting!

Moral of my story: Sometimes parenting is filled with monotony and it can really get to you. Now that my children are on their own and I have more freedom, I miss those days! I miss the little moments that I got to have with my children and I cherish the moments that I got to have with my children. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Oh and play-doh doesn’t come out of the carpet easily! And puzzle building with toddlers is what hell is going to be like.

Until next time 🙂

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