"Yeah," I say with a smile. I've heard this a thousand times before. In fact, I've heard this since I've had two kids. And I am. I'm busy. I have been for a long time. But I have never felt it so much as I do now.
Do you know what scares me more than anything? An unexpected guest at around 1:00 pm. They would see me open the door and immediately observe hair uncombed, smudged glasses, dirty clothes, house a mess, and kids still in their pajamas. There are truly not enough hours in the day to get it all done.
Today, after a long day in which the hubs had to leave the house at 4:45 am and did not return home until about 6:00 pm, I walked back into my room for the first time all day. I looked in the mirror and was horrified by the state of my attire. Here's a glimpse:
Totally disgusting. This shirt is the result of not one, not two, but three girls with a cold. It's a baby who spits up if she is not burped well. It's a homeschooling "wouldn't it be fun to make your own clay" project, and oil splatter from cooking. It's apparently a napkin too.
I'm tired. I'm tired of the baby waking up to nurse twice a night and I'm tired of two year old potty accidents. But you know, I'll get up the next day and do it all over again. And I'd do it over and over again. Because each of these stains tells a story. A beautiful, messy story about a mom and her kids and their daily disasters adventures of growing up and growing together.
PS Olivia has her own story about today...
or the last two days... ehhh, let's say today for saving face purposes.
