I woke up yesterday morning with those plans. I gave up on going to the gym first since the past two nights Emmilyn had slept (or not slept) like a newborn, up every hour or two and I seemed to be getting some sort of crud...again. I don't have a grocery list because the day before went a little bit like this.
So I get the kids dressed and go outside to start the truck, excited because we finally cleared out the garage enough to put the truck in it! I forgot truck in garage means more driveway covered in snow. Bummer! We only got a couple of inches overnight but the wind blows all of the nicely shoveled/plowed snow back onto the driveway, sometimes with a 1-2 foot drifts. Sooo I start shoveling and shoveled just enough to get out of the driveway because it's 9 degrees. my fingers were about to fall off, and I was huffing like I had just run 3 miles. (Who needs the gym anyways?)
In what feels like 2 hours later, I get the kids in the car and drive to the commissary. I do the usual - put Emmilyn in the Ergo and in one swift motion get Landon out of the car and put his coat on. I get to the checkout just as Landon is reaching his 2 year old limit and when we get to the truck he does the body drop (ohhh how I hate the body drop) right in the middle of the parking lot snow/mud/salt mixture. I get him in the car and take his boots off so he's not kicking mud everywhere, decide to deal with the muddy pants when we get home, and feed Emmilyn before we head home. I leave the car running while I unload groceries and let Tucker out (except he won't come because, well, it's 9 degrees.) I get the kids in the house and start taking off our layers and find this:
While I clean up Tucker's mess, Landon is 'helping' me by putting cereal boxes, lotion, and plastic bags in the refridgerator, and I realize I forgot a Brita filter for the fifth time in a row. The more I try to clean things up the messier they seem to become. I'm thinking about the realtor coming in a few hours, how exhausted and sick I feel, and
I. Feel. Defeated.
I stand in the kitchen for a couple minutes staring at the groceries, willing them to put themselves away. I'm ready to throw in the towel, curl up on the couch and sleep the day away.
And then I hear Emmilyn blowing bubbles (aka glorified fart noises), I laugh, and remind myself that people have much worse days then this. I'VE even had much worse days than this. Why am I letting myself get defeated by such small, normal things that are probably occuring in many households everyday.
It's not a bad day. It's parenthood.
I'm a Mom. I can handle this. It's just snow. It's just muddy boots. It's just a loaf of bread. And Landon is just trying to help.
So I put on my big girl pants, put the groceries away letting Landon 'help' me, and got chili cooking for dinner. I hiked outside in a knee deep snow drift to retrieve our trashcan that blew away last night, come back inside and have to chuckle at Landon cleaning with an entire pack of wipes...sans pants because, well, they're still muddy...
When you're home with your kids all day everyday, it's easy to get caught up in the little things and long for your former life where you could come and go as you please.
I just wanted to go to the grocery store, easy peasy. But I want to be a good Mom even more. And being a good Mom means realizing I can't wake up and control every detail of how the day will progress. That evening after Chris got home, the realtor had left, and I put Emmilyn down for the night I came downstairs to this...
Ahhhh, I love this kid!
And today? I woke up more congested and sick feeling than yesterday but I know it will pass. How can I feel but so bad when I have the most beautiful babies in the world to take care of. (Because all Mommies have the most beautiful babies in the world. It's true, just ask them!) And they happen to be napping right now...at the same time.