Woke up to “one of those mornings”. My pets seem to stress me out more than my boys do. The cat had barfed in the living room. The dog had knocked over the trash can and scattered trash from one end of the house to the other. The cat peed on the boys’ bathroom rug. The dog pooped in our bedroom and because she is a shih tzu and it was half diahrrea, it is now stuck in her hair. My pets are potty trained … they really are. But for some reason, they like to barf, pee, and poop in the house Saturday-Sunday.
God is a comedian.
Fast forward 30 minutes: Cale is storming through the house trying to find pipe cleaners …. And while I am a work-from-home-stay-at-home Mom … no … I don’t just have a bag of pipe cleaners “lying around” somewhere. Uh-oh … Cale is now throwing a “man tantrum”. (Those are the funniest).
The baby is screaming for his morning nap. Cash is taking apart his sticker book and stickering everything he comes in contact with.
And Mom has yet to put peanut butter on her toast that was put in the toaster an hour ago.
Now fast foward 45 minutes…
Baby is sleeping.
Dog has had a bath.
Cale is done working on the car (after I supplied him with a Dr. Brown’s bottle cleaner instead of a pipe cleaner) — BTW, “You’re welcome, hun.”
Cash is … oh goodness …. now my living room has turned into a giant fort.
Sundays in the T-house are fun. They really are. But only in the T-house will you find Mr. and Mrs. T wishing for some “juice” at 10:00 in the morning.
I have to go play “Camping” now. Which for some reason always ends up turning into wrestle-and-tackle-Mommy-with-the-football by a 6 foot animal and a 3.5 foot maniac all while attempting to not make a sound so we don’t wake up the 2 foot buddha.