Today is that day. The day that the cute little grandma in Target vaguely mentions when she says, “enjoy it while they’re young; the days are long but the years are short.”
What they so coyly forget to tell you is just how long that long day is. And how it’s miserable. And how it makes you question why you wanted this instead of a 9 to 5 in a high rise downtown with extra cash flow for spa days.
Today was with injuries (yes, including a baby chewing on broken glass and not one, but two boys with probable concussion causing head bumps), and the king of undone houses (no big deal that toilet water is covering the bathroom while everything from the cabinets is sitting on the floor soaking it in; and when you see mom discover it, of course it’s a good idea to quickly make your way to the kitchen to empty more cabinets), and bad attitudes (of the screaming, and ipod throwing and hitting your brother with an etch-a-sketch type).
It’s also the day that daddie is caught over two hours late at work, three weeks of cycling sicknesses (by the sounds of which 50 year old smokers live here) when another scratchy throat and sinus headache are creeping in, and despite having a passion to cook and a stocked pantry dinner just isn’t a possibility. So there are buttered noodles, bottles and ramen. And while eating Ramen fond memories of how simple (and quiet and un-poopy) the blessed college days were.
Today is that day. And at the end of it when all the patience and yelling and anger and tempers have been spent there isn’t much left but to say I love you and to rock you before bed. Even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing it’s also the only thing I feel like doing because today was just that hard.