Welcome to the Jungle

I like writing about the days that go smoothly.  It’s good PR.  It boosts my image as a put-together mom.  And some days I really am.  But then there’s days like this, and I don’t so much like writing about these kinds of days.  But it’s reality and it’s kinda funny, and those are my 2 criteria 🙂

I woke up before the kids (a good start!) and walked into the kitchen to eat 1st breakfast (there will be 2nd and 3rd breakfast…the glories of pregnancy!)  I quickly noticed something moving, wiped my eyes and focused.  Ants.  Hundreds of them.  Nay, thousands of them.  On the cabinets, counters, stove top, in the pantry, swarming in our apple bucket (we eat at least 6 apples a day) and all over the table, chairs and  floor.  Commence early-morning killing spree.

Middle Man woke up next and grabbed his toy sword to assist in the massacre.  He’s always up for a good rampage.

Little Lady woke up next, sporting an incredibly  leaky diaper.  Good news is that her fleece feety pajamas are amazingly absorbent, so she was essentially a walking latrine.  So as I refocused my attention from the ants to Miss Pee Pee Pants, I notice that our house guest (i.e. dining room mouse) apparently spent the night diligently chewing through the wood radiator cover.  Awesome.

So as I sweep up the wood shavings and start a load of laundry, Middle Man has an accident in the bathroom.  And since I can no longer reach the floor in all my pregnant hugeness, I do the ol’ towels-on-feet trick.

Thankfully we pull off breakfast without a hitch (except for the part where Middle Man carved his name into the table with a key…don’t ask) but by this point I need to breath and refocus.  So I fix a hot cup of tea and sit on the back porch and watch the boys play hockey.  They’re really quite good.  Big Brother has fast reflexes and Middle Man has a killer slap shot.  A slap shot that of course smashed right into my cup of tea, spilling the lava onto my huge belly.  The kids run over and start kissing my belly, accidentally pushing my phone off the arm rest.  Smash.

The upside: we still got school in via audio cd while we went on an ant-killing spree, I’m like walking potpourri as my clothes smell of the most delicious Indian spice tea,  my belly got a lot of kisses from little lips after the slap shot incident, and as I type this, Big Brother is massaging my back with a baseball bat.  At least that’s the story I’m going with. And it’s only 10:30 am, so there’s still a lot of potential in the day!  I mean, what else could happen???