@aspiringmama: Comedy of Errors. I can't even send a tweet...
*My head jerks up from the phone I am trying to tweet on when Buttercup lets out a shriek of pain
*Princess o Mine has not grasped the concept of looking where she is going
*So she smacked her forehead on the back of the dining table chair
*Just as Nana and one of The Aunt's had connected with The Husband on Facetime for an iPod chat
*Which was supposed to happen while I tried to unpack from a little trip, write a blog post, make dinner, and unload and reload the dishwasher
*Instead I was cuddling my screaming child and icing her forehead because she has the observation skills of a blind monkey and listening to the pathetic wails of the puppy who is trying his damnedest to tell his human sister that he's all about solidarity.
"No, no, it's ok," I hear The Husband say into the iPod as he walks away from the sad symphony of crazy, "Little One just smacked her face when she wasn't paying attention. She gets that from Pauline."
Liar! I have a killer attention spa...
*The dish washer buzzes, interrupting my thoughts, instantly making me forget why I was just pissed off at The Husband. I blink, soothe the child, and deposit her on the couch with one of the new Tokens of Spoyalty purchased for her on our little trip, and quickly address the dishes
*Kiss, kiss, hug, hug
*Get dinner going
*Stress out while stressing out thinking of the rest of the to-do list
*Like the taxes
*My mom's taxes
*Buttercup and her month of barely any school thanks to conferences and half-days
*My slowly loosening grip on reality
Baby, come upstairs with Mama so I can get the clothes put away.
*And I grab the now empty bags from the trip to deposit in the closet, hand Buttercup off to The Husband, who is still talking to his mom and sister, and run back downstairs to check on dinner.
*The dish washer needs to be unloaded again
*And it's been 30 minutes since the last time Buttercup tried to go potty
Sweeter! Get her on the toilet!
*I don't wait for a response to my shrieked demand up the stairs
*Instead I walk back into the kitchen, feed the dogs, and plate the food, pour the milk, and scream up the stairs again to let Buttercup and The Husband know it's time to eat.
*As they make their way downstairs, I glance at the liquor cabinet and sigh wistfully.
Mama! It's time to eat! Yay!
*Which means more dishes. Yay! And I still need to send that tweet.
I reach for my phone to finish my thought. From 49 minutes ago.
...without losing my mind.