There are several reasons why I am acutely aware that it is NOT Mother's Day anymore. Let me highlight a few...
1. Keith and Cole got up an hour earlier than usual.
2. I changed 7 diapers (5 of which were poopy) before morning snack time. (Unless I'm running a daycare, that seems like an unfair statistic.)
3. I found my toothbrush buried in a pile of whiskers dumped out of Brent's electric razor.
4. I later found my toothbrush being used to "clean" our office chair.
5. I cleaned up a mountain of spilled rice and a broken bowl off the kitchen floor.
6. I cleaned half a tube of trial-size toothpaste out of the carpet and off Ally's face.
7. I didn't get a run in this morning. (That is never a good start to my day.)
8. Ally refused to take a morning nap.
9. I have innumerable loads of laundry calling my name. I'm obviously still ignoring them.
10. My bedroom floor currently looks like this. The fact that I have been avoiding the task of crawling into the attic to return the Easter stuff caught up with me today when Cole discovered it so neatly tucked away in a corner of my room. He did ask before getting all of it out and I didn't have the strength to say 'no'. I guess now I just need the strength to clean it up...
(That's Keith in the picture.)
11. It's 1:16 in the afternoon and I haven't showered or brushed my teeth. (For obvious reasons, I might be forgoing the brushing teeth thing until I can round up a clean toothbrush or get to the store. The boys' latest obsession with "brushing" their teeth has depleted my once well-stocked toothbrush supply.)
I am in mourning. Perhaps because yesterday was such a perfect day, the typical chaos of today seems out of place when in fact, the chaos is exactly where it should be and always is: right here. Since the kids are too small to really recognize Mother's Day, the onus was upon Brent to make it special and he delivered on all accounts. I slept in, took my time getting ready for church (which meant my hair was washed and I did get to brush my teeth), ate a delicious breakfast, got a 2 1/2 hour nap (I know, pure indulgence), ate a mouth-watering BBQ meal, watched a movie and snuggled with the boys while Brent cleaned up and then I sat and read a pile of magazines: Competitor, Crate and Barrel, and Real Simple. The day could not have been more perfect.
If only every day was Mother's Day. Well, I'm just holding out for another 364 more days. Let the countdown begin.
If only every day was Mother's Day. Well, I'm just holding out for another 364 more days. Let the countdown begin.
