If you’ve read my blog recently you know I’m a) pregnant and b) nesting. Nesting means neurotically clean, organized…birding out. I woke up today from a good, hard sleep, completely clueless to the meltdown ahead.
My birdhouse meltdown started faintly. I’ve been waiting for a shoe order for the boys–it finally arrived today, but the boxes were torn and the wrong sizes were sent. It’s been taken care of, but another week of waiting. I’m now annoyed and Catcher gets to spend more time in shoes that are too small.
Then the internet goes out, an every other day occurrence lately. It seems to be a router problem and I hate it when equipment can’t just do it’s job. Annoyed.
As I’m huffing and sighing about having to fix this POS, I hear Tee say, “Look at all the baby ants!”. Are you kidding me? Really? A sudden ant infestation has taken over my kitchen baseboards and into my dining room under Catcher’s chair (smart ants). Don’t they know I’m nesting? Don’t they know they seem dirty to me? Don’t they know I get nauseated seeing tons of tiny things moving in unison?
I’m on the phone with the spousal, I begin to lose it, but know I need to get a grip. Tee peeks out from the bathroom, obediently asking for me to wipe him…”one second babe”…wait, why is there bouncing in the bathroom? I make it just in time to catch Catcher (couldn’t resist that one) smearing the OTHER BROTHER’S POOP all over his basketball then bouncing it on the bathroom walls, repeatedly. The crying, mine, turned to sobbing.
The mess was cleaned up–tile can be sanitized, children can be scrubbed down, balls can be thrown away. Online orders can be corrected and ants will die. The internet is working now. Sanity can come back, right? I’m unclear on the last one…
Tee just came up and asked, “Are you all done crying? Mommy, don’t be sad. Stop being sad. Just hold Tee and both your boys.” Out of the mouths of babes calmed the meltdown over the butts of babes.
Most days the piles are just poop, but today the piles are definitely shit.