Thursday, May 15, 2014

Bad ...

97.2% of the last two weeks have sucked. And with that word comes a sincere apology to my MawMaw and PawPaw because I know they hate that word. But seriously - I have no other way to describe the last few days.

It all started last Monday when my children woke up with the intent to send me to the Insane Asylum. I swear, it was a conspiracy. A total conspiracy against me - the innocent, pregnant, hormonal mother who either yells or cries at the drop of a hat.

Needless to say, life carries on even during the really bad, no good, downright awful weeks. So we schooled, we ate, we lived, we clashed. This was on repeat last week and even this week too. Even though I swore to myself this past Sunday night I would not have another week like last week. 

A glimpse into May 5-11:
Monday: Really, really, really bad.
Tuesday: Field trip. Rest of the day? Bad. 
Wednesday: Exhausted, nauseous. Bad.
Thursday: Extremely hormonal. Bad.
Friday-Saturday: Trip to Savannah. Exhausted, nauseous. Bad. 
Sunday: Mother's Day. It was a tie between wonderful and bad. 

Do you see this attitude of mine? MawMaw and PawPaw cover your eyes. It sucks.
I'm blaming my own raging hormones and all the extra ones I'm making for Khloe Ruth. 

To justify myself, from Monday to Friday - I fell down our stairs, was locked out of the house by an angry three year old (no, this is not a joke) in which I had to 'break in' to my own home without the neighbors seeing, had a screaming one year old that was literally wrapped around my legs, felt like my first trimester had hit repeat, noticed just how large my thighs were becoming via pregnancy, had an overly mouthy 7 year old, had a complete meltdown on the phone with a poor man from Priceline (see details below), had my Toms (my fav.or.ite shoes ever) chewed up by the dog and was driven insane by every other little thing in the world. 

By Thursday, the hubs looked at me and said, "You need a break. Get out. Go somewhere." 

Just imagine this scenario. And yes, feel free to laugh at me. 
I make a hotel reservation through Priceline on Thursday (prior to the hubs pushing me out the door) and end up with a room with just one king size bed. One bed, six people. 
Rationally, one would suck it up and know you'll just be scrunched for the night and extra cuddly with the hubs and kids. Not the best, but doable.
 Irrationally? I call Priceline and have a complete breakdown accusing the semi-speaking English person(s) on the other line of wanting my children to sleep on a nasty hotel floor and probably catch a disease of some sort. Yep. That was me. Literally bawling my eyes out, sobbing uncontrollably to the poor Priceline people about a king size bed. All of this happening in my car in the nail place parking lot and with no shame at all, I marched myself into the salon with a swollen nose and blotchy eyes asking for a manicure, in which the sweet lady says, "Awe hunny. Bad day? You need pedicure too."

So I had a pedicure too. 

Friday and Saturday we took a trip to Savannah to watch Travis' little brother graduate from college. I moped around the town- nauseous and exhausted- just about the entire time. Making a girl is so different (for me) than making boys. This chick is some major work. 

Sunday was Mother's Day and I was woken by four sweet boys and a husband ready to shower me with gifts. We normally don't make big deals on Mother's Day, Father's Day, even Valentine's Day, but I think the husband knew how much I needed it this year. All the extra hugs, "I love you"s, and "thank you"s were very, very, very much needed. And the cherry on top? A gorgeous necklace from Kay Jewelers, some sweatpants and more jewelry from Charlotte Russe and an amazing homemade card.

Then, just when the birds were chirping and I was really taking in all the love while I watered my garden, Kruz tries to lock me out of the house - Kolt tries to stop him and Kruz bites a chunk (literally) out of his arm. Cue the screams, the timeouts, the tears. Of course, Travis had already left the house (he has Deacon duties this month) and I was left to deal with the craziness that had broken out alone. Shocker. 

I laid my head down last Sunday night swearing to myself my house would wake up different in the morning. There was no magic dust sprinkled because we all woke up equally as grumpy the next morning. We had a dentist appointment for Kollin and a Khloe appointment for me and wouldn't you know Kolt starts puking in the car before we even made it to the dentist and proceeds (poor kid) to have the "poops" in the waiting room at my doctor's office. And so it goes on that I had to carry Kolt around on my hip since he was dressed in a t-shirt and underwear only (the underwear that Kollin so graciously gave up). 

Tuesday Kollin was sick and I spent a good hour cleaning up puke from where Kohen had apparently thrown up during the night and proceeded to sleep in it. Fun.
Travis and I did get to sneak out, thanks to our fabulous sitter and friend, to register for Khloe. Pink, pink and more pink. And thanks to my stepdad, I was treated to a manicure and pedicure that evening with my Momma. 

Wednesday was a school, life, school, life, karate, dinner in the car, karate again and rushing to church kind of day. 

Today, Kruz is sick and proceeded to try his very hardest to make it to the toilet that last puking fest but hit the back of the toilet, the wall and the shower curtain instead. Also known as, I've been cleaning up more vomit today.

There. I'm done. 

Can I just end with that? Thanks. I promise to be better next post. 

Someone, get the magical dust ... 

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