Multitasking...

While I was in the shower yesterday:

E:  Mommy, can I color a picture for you?
Me:  Yes, as long as it's not a picture of me in the shower.

R:  Mommy, can you open my stickers?
Me:  Only if you want me to get them wet.  I'll open them when I get out of the shower.

J: (mumble mumble mumble) poop (mumble mumble mumble) bathroom floor.
Me:  You pooped on the bathroom floor?
J:  No, I slipped!
Me:  Oh.  (I swear I heard the word 'poop.')  How did you slip on the bathroom floor?
J:  It was wet.
Me:  Can you get a paper towel and dry it?
J:  Ok!

R:  Are you done yet?
Me:  No.

E:  Mommy, Julie made a mess on the bathroom floor, but I already cleaned it up.
Me:  Let me guess, with water?
E:  Yeah, and mulch.  But I already cleaned it up.

R:  Are you done yet?
Me:  No, I keep getting interrupted.

There's no denying...

... that Emma is my child.

Thanks to my dad for digging this up.

Any given Saturday

First, I got the girls new backpacks at Costco, making me the coolest mom ever.  (They ended up with those princess backpacks, as much as I tried, "Are you sure you don't want Minnie?")

Then, I made these cookies, making me cooler yet.

And then I didn't take away gave Lefty a shoe box, making me the coolest cat mom ever.

All in a day's work.

The Power of Guilt

These?  These would be Halloween lights.

Yes, really.

The girls helped me put out the "inside" decorations, but Becca was truly upset that we didn't have any outside decorations.  

She would constantly comment on all the other houses we would go by that were "ready for Halloween."

Clearly, I was letting her down.  

So, not too long before Halloween, when they were 60% off, I got some lights, and let her help me put them up.

They made her so happy.  Even if she called them "Christmas" lights the entire time they were up.

It's no giant inflatable spider.

But we need somewhere to go next year, right?

Mangoes

In case I have mistakenly given the impression that our lives are all triplet-pigtails and triplet-sunshine, let me tell you about Mother's Day weekend.

I was sick and slept more than I can remember sleeping in a long time. I started feeling funny on Friday afternoon, so when dinner time came and I wasn't hungry, I knew fun times were in store.

I was still functional at that point, though, so we took the girls to eat outside at Panera, and to see the fountains at the shopping center it's in. Then we took our first family trip to Barnes and Noble to play with the trains ... and, um, all of the other toys that other people had previously taken out of boxes. They had lots of trains in boxes still, and Julie kept telling me "that's a pretty choo choo train". They also fell in love with the magnetic drawing boards (considering these for our next long car trip) and the books that have all the buttons on the side to make noises (yeah, not considering these at all). We had to wrestle the drawing boards away from them to leave, but they did score a new Curious George book.

I went to sleep as soon as we put the girls in bed, which technically meant I was asleep before they were. I woke up Saturday feeling just awful and spent most of the morning laying on the couch and dozing on and off. When the girls went up for naps, I moved from the couch to the bed.

I started to feel better on Saturday night, but was still exhausted and went to bed shortly after the girls did.

I had a brief window of feeling ok on Sunday morning, which was nice so the girls could take me to the zoo for Mother's Day. It was fun, but the girls kept acting like they had somewhere else to be - they wanted to see the animal, but only briefly before saying "bye bye". Part of it may be that we went to see the "loud" monkeys and I think it freaked them out.

Oh, and they did in fact remember that the playground was there. They kept asking about seeing the turtles, and I can't help but wonder if it's because the playground is right next to the turtles.

About half way in to the zoo, Emma started asking about "mangoes.". I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she was talking about. A couple more times throughout the zoo: "Mangoes? Mangoes?". Finally we come up to the duck pond, and she starts talking about mangoes again. I'm thinking "mangoes... mongoose? goose?" but clearly I'm not getting it ... And then it hit me - flamingoes! I don't know where they come up with this stuff!

We had lunch at the airport again and watched the planes. So far, mother's day is just fine. While they were napping, I started going through all of their summer clothes. It's quite a chore. In the meantime, it's chaos as I try to organize things and Greg tries to decode my system to find the girls clothes in the morning. I kept working even after they woke up from nap. By the time I finally went downstairs a bit before dinner time, the girls were in rare form, just screaming and whining and misbehaving. It continued through dinner, and Rebecca in particular was determined to do every bad thing she could think of, from climbing on the table to banging on the table to trying to pick her cup up with a fork and spoon to sticking her fork in her milk.

By the time dinner was over, I had a full on head ache, starting at my neck and moving up the back of my head. It was all I could do to take some ibuprofen and lay back down on the couch.

Where I stayed until Monday morning.

So by Monday, I feel completely lazy and guilty for making Greg do everything this weekend, including bath time and bed time on Sunday night. The house is a mess, and I feel like a complete failure for not getting anything done. The girls' clothes mess is still all over the bed and Greg had to sleep in the guest room on Sunday. And I'm fed up with the girls' behavior and whining and my seeming inability to do anything about it.

There are days that I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

A Mother’s Prayer for Its Child By Tina Fey

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

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Tina Fey's new book Bossypants is already on my Kindle list. This is why.