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It’s 12:47 am right now and the baby is screaming in her crib. Despite being exhausted, she kept fighting sleep. I didn’t really know what else to do, so cry it out it was.

I am so frigging tired.

All day today I had to repeatedly say things like, “Put the baby down”, “Get off the cat tree”, “Can you please roar a little softer?”, “Don’t shoot arrows at the light fixtures”, “Stop playing in the bathroom–that’s gross”, “Don’t touch that pan, I just took it out of the oven!”, “Laurelyn put down the toilet brush!”, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!!”, “WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT’S OK??!”

Making dinner got put off by an hour because of random shenanigans. First Arya peed in her panties, so I had to mop up the gallon of pee that was all over the floor and go upstairs to get her new panties. Then once I got back in the kitchen, Laurelyn pooped, which Eowyn told me about at the top of her lungs while running away from the poopy baby as if she was carrying the plague. So I changed the poopy diaper and took it straight into the outside trash can, no matter that it meant stepping into the 20 degree garage in slippers because it seriously smelled like it could have been the plague. Then once I was finally washing potatoes, Eowyn started yelling from the bathroom. She was pooping and Arya decided that the best way to deal with the smell was to spray down Eowyn with Pumpkin Spice Glade. As in dripping wet. Eowyn started freaking out because her skin was burning, and I started yelling at Arya to not do shit like that, and Arya laughed. The child has the audacity to laugh at me while I was yelling at her. That level of sass earned her an instantaneous smack on the butt. She didn’t find it so funny after that. I then had to take Eowyn upstairs to give her a shower, which involved bringing Laurelyn up too of course. Once Eowyn was in the shower, Arya yelled up the stairs that she is also covered in air freshener and in need of a shower. Even though I know that she did not spray herself and did not actually need a shower, I give her one too so she won’t pitch another fit.

I finally cooked dinner, but couldn’t seem to actually eat it myself because the kids kept asking for things. On try number 5 of eating my dinner, Arya had another accident. Luckily she had a pull up on this time. Back upstairs to get another pull up. After she’s delt with, Eowyn insisted on telling me a secret before allowing me to go back to my now cold food. Her super important can’t-wait-until-after-I-eat secret: at night when Arya is messing around but Eowyn wants to go to bed, she asks Arya, “Arya, want to play the ‘go to bed game?'” Then Arya gets excited and says, “Yeah!” and actually settles down. Tricky girl, tricky girl; she’ll make a wonderful Mommy one day.

Afi (IE: Grandpa) watched the girls while the husband and I went to an appointment. When we got back, I discovered a wet pull up laying in the middle of the living room. Arya had ANOTHER accident, took the pull up off, AND LEFT IT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LIVING ROOM! It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her that she needs to put the dirty pull ups in the trash, I keep finding them anywhere but the trash. Checking the corners of their bedroom has now become a part of my routine.

I’m actually not sure if she’s ever going to be potty trained. Not because she doesn’t get it; she just doesn’t care. If I don’t get to the pee puddle fast enough, she legit starts splashing in it. That child don’t give a —

Then 5 minutes after we put the older girls to bed, Eowyn came running to the top of the stairs yelling,


I responded by yelling back up,

“Arya what the heck?! We don’t punch people in the face.”

To which Arya yelled back down with complete defiance,

“Well Eowyn told me ‘no’, so I punched her in da face!”

Then I had to bury my face in the couch to cover up my hysterical laughter, because that would send the wrong message.

And now it’s past one in the morning and the baby is still awake.

I’ve heard parents of older children say that if you can just keep your kids alive for the first 5 years, you’ve done good. I totally get that now. Because seriously I feel like I’m trying to herd cats all day long. I’ve got one cat getting distracted by dust flying in the air, another cat too busy eating to listen to my pleas for it to move it’s ass, and yet another peeing everywhere except inside the litter box.

Just the most futile, frustrating thing to do with your life. Yet here I am, doing it. Every day. Day after day. Into eternity.

Thank God for wine.

Mommy's Sippy Cup Wine Glass

Join the discussion 4 Comments

  • Momma says:

    And you still find time to bog! You’re really incredible, Amanda! I can’t believe Ary!!! You now know that survival is the real reason God makes them so adorably cute!

  • Maria G. Haro says:

    Amanda, you have a lot of patience…when my kids were small, they were afraid of my “Chancla” ending on their bottoms whenever they misbehaved…and it worked…
    always !!!! …. 🙂

    • Amanda says:

      Bless you, because I feel like I am the worst when it comes to patience! I also have to spank my kids from time to time. Stubbornness seems to run in the family! 😉

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