I thought I was going to lose my mind today. I didn’t start a fire in my neighbor’s driveway or tweet to Drake requesting he murder my vagina. I did start a load of laundry without adding detergent. I know, insane in the membrane. (Insane in da brain)
My children got on every last nerve. They were extremely whiny, teasing and fighting with one another non-stop. On an average day I get a brief reprieve when my daughter takes a nap. She didn’t sleep today. “He’s looking at me!” Really? I am supposed to punish your brother for looking in the direction you are standing? My 6-year-old was channeling Sally Field, crying at the drop of a hat. So, what do you do with two exhausted kids, a mouthy teenager and a mother on the verge of a nervous breakdown? You play volleyball!
It was probably the worst suggestion my husband has ever made. Family game night was invented by Satan. My daughter spent most of the game on the ground sobbing over nothing in particular. My 6-year-old wanted to serve the ball, but couldn’t get it over the net. His 13-year-old brother was really patient. I’m kidding, that would never happen. He huffed and puffed at every failed attempt. My frustrated 6-year-old covered his face, trying to fight back the tears. Then, he went into a rage chasing his teenage brother around the back yard. It was at that moment I declared “Game Over.” My daughter threw herself on the grass, “Why?” My highly competitive husband could not go inside without a victor. I would have gone alone if not for my daughter screaming, “Don’t leave me Mommy. Please! I will miss you.” I can only imagine how many neighbors called social services.
I refused to continue to play, letting the ball drop at my feet ensuring a victory for my 6-year-old. It wasn’t good enough. When I announced it was bath time he said, “You just want to put us to bed so you can go party with your friend Nikki.” You got me. I am going to drag my 38-year-old, cellulite ridden ass to every club this side of the Mississippi. Little does he know that my wild Friday night included Yoga pants, a bowl of Reese Puffs cereal and a Breaking Bad marathon. Before slipping into dreamland my kids gave me a big hug and said, “I love you Mommy.” …… and with that all was right in the world. Pound sign Countingmyblessings (It was and always will be a pound sign. #Kidsthesedays)