Happy Mother's Day To Me?

Well hell, THIS has been a crazy beginning to Mother's Day weekend.

It should be NO surprise that my kids decided to kick things off in style.

It all started out at about quarter after 5 this morning, when Sterling began screaming frantically. 

John is a super early morning person, so he jumped out of bed to go see what was up. She was standing naked, in the middle of her bed, shivering. 

When he went to put her jammies back on her, he discovered that they were still completely zipped up, with the neck tab snapped and everything. Somehow she had shimmyied her entire body through the neck hole. 

He was getting ready to put her back in bed when he realized that the sheets were wet. 

I know the exact moment he discovered it because I heard his drowsily bellowed "oh shit". 

Her first official bed wetting. 

So being a problem solver, he brought her in and slid her into bed with me. Usually she sleeps until eight, so I'm sure that seemed like a logical solution.

It wasn't. 

About 20 minutes into our snuggling, just as I was slipping back into sleep, something hard rammed into my face in an explosion of stars. 

Letting out a string of expletives of my own, I sat bolt upright to see Sterling smiling gleefully at me from the other side of the bed. She had evidently chucked the freakin TV remote at me. 

"I want to watch TV mama? Pweeeeease?"

After contemplating whether to beat her senseless with that damn remote, or give in to her demands in an attempt to get little bit more sleep myself, I flipped to some obnoxiously simpering children's programming. 

At first I thought this is the answer to my sleep prayers. It was, until my little personal commentator piped up in the shrillest voice possible at 6 in the morning. 

"What's that boy doing Momma? Why he sad?"

"Why is that W red?"

"Three! There are three little pigs! They SO cute!"

"Why is Elmo happy, Momma? I funny?"


"I talking Momma, you hear me talking?"

Yeah kid, I hear you talking...

So throughout all this, John had been running errands. He got back right around 8, just in time for Bennett to wake up. 

John went in to get him up and suddenly starts yelling "Oh freakin hell! Oh hell! What is that?!?!?"

So obviously, I jumped out of bed to go investigate.

Evidently Bennett had explosively vomited all over his room. It was all over the sheets, all over the headboard and footboard, on the walls, on the carpet, and coated all over him. 

The crazy part is that he hadn't ever peeped. 

So we spent the next 30 minutes stripping the bed, wiping down everything that got spattered, and scrubbing the boy. 

Good times. 

The kids were cleaned and dressed, so we headed down for breakfast. John, a bit frazzled, disclosed a surprise. He had gone to a French Patisserie on his errands and brought back a selection of goodies. 

They were beautiful and delicious. Neither of the kids were interested. That is, until the chocolate croissants came out. Then suddenly Sterling's appetite was piqued. 

She grumpily mowed through several bites, then suddenly started spitting chewed up chocolate croissant everywhere. 

Evidently she wasn't quite the fan she thought. Her loss. But it was the final straw for John. 

His carefully laid plans to take the kids out shopping to give me the morning alone in blissful silence was scrapped. There was NO way he was taking Grumpy and Pukey Grumpy out in public. 

And so, at 9 a.m. we all headed down to chill in the playroom. Which was almost as nice as taking a bath and running around naked in an empty house. 


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