Tuesday was only the second day of Spring Break, and the kids nearly broke me. I sound like such a rookie mom but, good lord, it was like they were collaborating on who could one-up the other to drive mommy bonkers.  I’ll be interspersing random cute pictures of the kids here because, sometimes, their cuteness is the only thing that saves them.

Monday had been a pretty good day with our trip to the Museum of Flight, and I was optimistic for another fun day. I planned to take the kids to the gym with me in the morning, where they would be entertained by other adults and a bouncy house, and then spend the afternoon doing Pinterest-inspired crafts with the girls while Alden napped.

Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. Get your jollies out now.

What? You don’t wear a raccoon hat with your Cinderella dress?


It started with a hairbrush. I had asked Eleanor to brush her hair before we left and, as I was putting the last few items together to leave, I noticed her hair still looked rather unkempt. I took her to the bathroom for me to finish brushing it and immediately hit a sticky snag in her hair. Suspicious, I started to ask what she got in her hair when the scent hit me: toothpaste. But how did toothpaste end up on the back of her head? I could understand her accidentally getting toothpaste in the ends of her hair while spitting in the sink, but this part of her head seemed logistically impossible for that to be the case. With dawning horror I sniffed and inspected the toothbrush. “Eleanor….did you…put toothpaste on your hairbrush? And then brush with it??” Being an honorable child, Eleanor admitted to the crime. I spent the next half hour completely flabbergasted as to why she would ever do that, torn between indignation and exasperation. Zach, of course, found it quite funny when I texted to tell him what she had done. “She’s exploring her world” he said. Ha. Exploring me right into high blood pressure is more like it.

Lost Tooth 7 (2)
Another lost tooth.

I bound Ellie’s hair up in a (very sticky, highly scented) ponytail and hauled the kids to the gym. With relief I deposited them in the childcare area and headed to the cardio room. This was my first trip back to the gym in over a month, thanks to my surgery, so I kept my workout on the shorter side. When I was done I stopped to check on the kids before heading to the shower, as I always do. That’s when I found Alden in a caregiver’s arms, wailing his head off in his most desperate, inconsolable cry. I was a bit shocked they hadn’t come to get me. Alden is working on growing his two-year-old molars, and has been fussy all week. Combine that with being dropped into the care of strangers for the first time in over a month and he was a complete wreck. So, sweaty and worn out from my workout, I had to skip a shower, pack the kids up (without ever setting Alden down) and head straight home.

Checking his temperature. “Do it. Self!”

I managed to get a shower at home by taking Alden in the shower with me (soooo relaxing) and periodically hollering through the open door for the girls to stop fighting with each other. All through lunch Eleanor and Zoey were being mischievous so I banished them to the backyard while I put Alden down for a nap. An hour later the girls had come in and out of the backdoor approximately eighteen times (always slamming it, of course), I had threatened to lock the backdoor at least twelve times, Alden was still wide awake (gee, could it be all the door slamming?) and the girls were covered head-to-toe in chalk. Cue two more baths.

By this point I was utterly exhausted and defeated and desperately trying to hold it together. Then Zoey decided to kneel on Alden with all her weight, causing him to shriek in pain and me to frantically grab her off of him and assess for broken ribs or internal bleeding. In the process I somehow managed to sprain the elbow on my right (dominant) arm, causing a significant amount of pain anytime I used it for the next three days.

By this time it was two o’clock in the afternoon. Another two hours until Zach would be home, and then there was still dinnertime and bedtime to contend with.

Oh don’t you give me that innocent look! Child I know you!
Guilty as sin. And not the tiniest bit sorry.

I drank a lot of wine before my own bedtime that night.

And that was Tuesday.

The end.

One thought on “Tuesday

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