Ugly Days of Motherhood

I love my kids.  With all my heart. Always.

But some days I don't like being a mom very much... Raising a 3 year old and 18 months old while 8+ months pregnant is ... ?... exhausting just isn't a strong enough word to convey how tired I feel emotionally and physically.

Today is testing my limits. It's an ugly mom day. As I type this, I hear my daughters upstairs pulling the dresser drawers out and throwing their clothes all over their bedroom, crying and occasionally banging on the door.  But I'm not going to go upstairs and stop them right now because I've had enough moments of walking into a destroyed room today. Today... the day before our housewarming party.

I just wanted to clean and decorate for Christmas so our home felt warm and festive for our friends and guests tomorrow, and because I just love a warm and festive home for Christmas.  Today the universe, or maybe just my children, have decided to make that goal as impossible as they can.

Ruthe woke up with a leaking diaper. No big deal.  New diaper, wipe the baby, throw pajamas in the wash, put on clothes for the day.
Have breakfast-- we go with yogurt, and I tell the kids to finish up while I go try and trade out dishes from the dishwasher and clean last nights pots and pans that I left soaking.  Naomi cleans up fine, Ruthe washes the table and her hair with yogurt, and gets it all over her clothes. Again.  Ugh... change Ruthe's clothes again, wipe her down again. Go to school room, read a couple stories, tell kids to play puzzles and "read" while I clean the kitchen.

While cleaning kitchen, hear lots of thuds and falling, followed by crying.  All the books are on the floor. No one hurt, just startled. Every puzzle piece is mixed together in a giant pile in the middle of the room, our puzzles plus the library puzzles we have checked out. Along with some other library toys.  (I have paid too much in fines for losing library toy parts due "incidents" just like this that I don't take care of right away, so I MUST clean this up ASAP and count every piece of every puzzle and toy.) I ask the kids to help, but they keep taking apart the puzzles I'm checking the pieces for, so I send them to their room.

They don't go to their room.  They go to the kitchen because, apparently, they want more yogurt.  Refrigerator and floor of kitchen get "mopped" with yogurt, and kids recycle the yogurt as shampoo.  Yell.

Take kids to bathroom and tell them to get undressed while I wipe up the excess yogurt.  Just damage control; I will have to mop and wipe clean later, but for now I don't want massive dried yogurt all over the place.  Return to bathroom for mid-day bathtime, and half the toilet paper is shredded and sticking to my yogurt covered Ruthe.

Baths.
Lock clean, dried, clothed children in bedroom and tell them it's nap time.

Go downstairs and cry.
Write therapeutic blog entry about ugly mom day.
Re-read said blog post.
Laugh.
Regret not taking a picture.
Publish blog post.

To Do Next
Pray.
Go apologize to screaming children banging on their bedroom door for locking them in their room, and help them clean their room. Give hugs and kisses and remember that I really do love them.

A mother's work is messy and never ends.