Good and Bad Days


It's not a bad day...
when you take your kids to the park.

It's a bad day when those kids won't play because they are afraid that a rogue honeybee is going to hunt them down and sting them to death. To death.  And you can't sit quietly in the shade and work on your book because you MUST push them on the swing, because if they push themselves that evil bee will sting them mid-swing. Bees are afraid of moms, you know. Mostly moms who wear shorts without shaving their legs and who don't have any makeup on.

It's not a bad day...
when your half of your kids leave for the week.

It's a bad day when those kids announce that they need a water bottle or sunscreen or tampons and they need them before they leave at 6am.  And you wake up at 4:30 knowing you have to go to the store in an hour and you can't get back to sleep. And when you do get back to sleep, the 5 year-old who snuck in at three shoves his knees in your back for the hundredth time- and then you're awake for good.

It's not a bad day...
when your kids do their jobs without being asked.

It's a bad day when you discover puddles of pee in the bathroom and crumbled cake on the kitchen floor.  And no one did it.  And you have a phantom in your house that regularly eats in the living room, overloads the garbage can, leaves the milk out, and never, ever hits the toilet.

It's not a bad day...
when your are THE MOM because you fixed a gun with hot glue, and bought Lunchables for lunch and played Michael Jackson-the Experience.

It's a bad day when THE MOM becomes the 'meanest mom EVER' and someone to be hated and traded in for a new and improved model.  And, you never let them do anything fun.  And, you get to hear your favorite sentence- "Gosh, mom, I said I'd get off the computer. I'm doing it, see? Jeez."   And, the word 'butthead' is tossed around.

It's not a bad day...
when you realize that the Handy Man will be home in two hours.  And he's very handy at refereeing the kids. And, he'll give you a kiss.  Or two.  And, he'll listen to your complaints.  And, maybe he'll rub your back.

 A good day, indeed.

Comments

  1. Way to see the positives, I am impressed!

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  2. The bee thing. I totally felt the bee thing. I related to the rest, but the bee thing OWNED me. Awesome as usual.

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    Replies
    1. I've had to accompany Max across the backyard no less than four times in the last two days. To ward off bees. I gotta get him over this fear.

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  3. Love this post!
    -kerrie

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  4. Hmmm. All this sounds vaguely familiar. Though I'm mostly out of those woods around here...I will say, however, that the tampon thing cracked me up. Just the other day, Daughter-Only was getting around to leave to go to a concert--she needed to take two tampons with her, but did not have a bag to put them in (she doesn't have a purse just a Hello Kitty wallet--takes after her mom that way) and they would be too noticeable in her jeans pocket. She brings this "issue" to my attention FIFTEEN MINUTES before she has to leave and expects me to somehow solve it. (The end result: her ex-boyfriend/best friend carried them in the pocket of HIS jeans. He's a peach, that boy is.)

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    Replies
    1. What? You didn't have some magical tampon-hiding contraption for her? My daughter keeps her phone in her bra, maybe she could put the tampon there?
      And, what a nice friend. I wouldn't have even said the word tampon to any boys at that age.

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