Nothing to See Here…

First, let’s do simple addition:

(1) Terrible Two + (1) Fucking Four = we shall never ever ever ever leave this fucking house again

Math.  It’s SO logical.  That’s what I love about it.

This morning started out so lovely.  I woke at 7:30 and everyone was still sleeping.  I came downstairs and sat in the quiet.  It could only have been more perfect had Alfred J. Starbuck himself brought me a Venti Vanilla Mocha Latte or maybe if a bluebird landed on my shoulder to whistle me a little tune. 

My husband came down awhile later and yet the children slept.  THE CHILDREN SLEPT.  (You might ask “What the fuck were you doing UP if they were asleep?  All your whining about wanting to sleep in…” but I digress.)

At 8:45 the children were STILL asleep.  My husband and I wanted us some Waffle House and a trip to Walmart (if you hang with us, you’d better be that classy!)  We finally woke the little ankle biters up.

Smooth move, Exlax. 

It was less than 20 minutes later and the house was in total meltdown.  The two year old didn’t want her diaper changed because the two year old NEVER wants her diaper changed.  The four year old didn’t want to put on clean underwear because, and I quote, “I didn’t have an accident!”  What is it with my kids wanting to stay in smelly drawers?  My ten year old was supposed to be brushing her hair but was distracted by something shiny and when I tried to redirect her, she stomped feet and spewed attitude.  There were tantrums and hissy fits and… and… and, well, I just couldn’t take it.  So I had a mom tantrum (which, let’s face it, those are the worst of them ALL.)

I knew I had gone too far when my husband suggested “Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for awhile?”  Oh, god, he thinks I’m going to kill them all and bury them in the backyard with a good amount of lyme.  He is giving me the wife version of a time out.

So we skipped Waffle House and ate some Tasty Flakes or whatever here at home.  And when everyone seemed to have reclaimed their sanity, we did the unthinkable - we went to Walmart.  All of us.

Gawd, I hate that place.  I’m convinced that those of you who claim to oppose it for ethical or political reasons really just cannot stomach the hellhole and use those other excuses to avoid the place like the plague.  I wish I was smart like you all. 

As usual, the baby went into meltdown mode when we were about halfway through our list.  We tried to hurry but by the time we were checking out, I was ready to light the greeter on fire with his wheelchair loaded down with explosives and push him into the crowd.  It was THAT bad.

When we were finally safe in our car, with the offending children strapped securely into devices that significantly limit the radius of space in which they can wreak havoc, I said to Bill “What happened to our sweet baby?  Where did our little Rae of sunshine go?  She used to be so cute, so happy, and now she’s just cranky and unpleasant to be around.”

“Oh.” he said “That’s easy to answer.  She’s just taking after her mother.”

So I killed him again.  Fortunately, Walmart sells lyme at rock bottom prices.