Sunday, December 6, 2015


Oh my gosh. My life has been insane. I've been working many 11 hour days-- putting in a good 8 hours at the office, coming home to my three children who require food, quality time, and to be put to bed-- then jumping back on the computer for 3-4 more hours all while doing a load of laundry (having three boys means doing a load a day) and loading/unloading the dishwasher. Then I repeat it all over again until days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.

A lot of the craziness has to do with my work. I'm swamped. We had our work holiday party the other day and I was the grinch who kept thinking, "Why the eff do I have to sit down and eat cake?! Parties are a waste of my time people. I have three briefs that are due tomorrow!"

I spent two full days cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal all by myself. And almost everyone canceled on me. Luckily our friend couple took up our offer to come eat with us. They saved my Thanksgiving. Instead of crying into my dinner plate, I only cried into my pillow.

Someone gave my children jerk juice. I'm going to find that someone and make them scoop poop out of my bathtubs, launder the highlighter marks from my comforter, clean the ground up Cheerios off my van floorboards, and THEN I'll make them babysit my constantly fighting and whining children for three consecutive days while I go somewhere tropical.

They were so naughty yesterday that I threw their Elf on the Shelf in the trash. NOT the inside trash. The outside garbage bin. But five minutes later, my mommy guilt struck and I spent...too long...with my head in the garbage can trying to fish the damn Elf out. I left him in the gravel for Jacob to find later and then went to my room and curled up into a ball to cry. But only for thirty second because then that's when Jon highlighted 1/3 of my comforter (and 2/3 of his own face) with bright yellow marker.

I tried to be a good Catholic mom and took my kids to see a living nativity. That should be fun right? NOPE. My three year old screamed the WHOLE time. He's afraid of sheep. And Shepherds. And candles. And baby Jesus, apparently.

What I've ultimately learned the past month is that boys kinda suck sometimes. And I may not be here as often as I used to.

Send help.

Or chocolate.

Or wine.

Or chocolate wine poured by some help.


  1. oh no! hope things realign soon! and chocolate wine sounds like the antidote to EVERYTHING.