Mothers Day? Cool.

  Fifeteen minutes ago, at 9:30pm I flopped onto the couch with an audible "oof!" (from the couch, I'm offended) and for the first time today, I began to scroll through my Facebook feed.  As is the annual custom, I saw post after post filled with wonderful Mothers Day recaps.  Breakfast in bed, flowers, sparkly adornments, giggling children skipping about their mother's apron strings with halos-a-glow.  Usually I'm a part of the sunshine parade but this year... the sunshine was, um... sparse.   First, a disclaimer.  This is not a complainy post.  Most of my days are filled with glowy wonderment.  I'm due for a crapper every now and again and I'm a tough bird, I can take it.  Today was a bit shit.  Buuut Ry and I laughed our way through it together and then I laughed all over again as I reflected on it while reading some of your Mothers Day happenings.
  Sure, I had breakfast in bed.  It was a flavorless frozen breakfast burrito served on a paper plate 10 minutes before we had to dash out to church and it was accompanied by an iced coffee served in a red Solo kegger cup.  Cool.
  Sweet treasures made my my little angels?  Check!  I got a yellow piece of construction paper with purple and blue smudges on it.  I quickly realized the smudges were supposed to be handprints since both of my children were sporting one severely stained hand, which was unfortunate seeing as how we were going to be on stage at church today in our Sunday best, doing Luca's dedication.  Cool.
I don't fault Ry though.  He hasn't had a down moment for a few weeks and threw together the attempt at breakfast and art straight from getting off his night shift.  All his efforts (including the 4, still wrapped in plastic, grocery store gerber daisies) were really sweet and a big deal because I know how very little time he has.

  Church went smoothly.  Luca looked dapper, Scarlet danced around with her darling little piggy tales and we even got a picture of everyone in the family smiling at once!  That's a day-maker in it's own right.

  Afterward we had plans to have a lovely brunch at my mother in law's house, prepared by yours truly. Fast forward to my pioneer woman french toast bake A BLAZE in the oven, smoke pouring up through the burners.  And now the scene is set....
"RYAAAAANNNNN!   RYYYYYYYAAAAAAN! FIIIIREEEEEE!  HELP! HELP!"  I scream.  He's passed out (literally from exhaustion of being up for over 24hrs) on the couch and doesn't budge.   So while he lounges oh so casually with his feet crossed no less,  the mothers and I scramble about shooing children away from the danger, removing the threat, ie: the french toast bake, and choking on smoke.  Cool.  After the excitement calmed, we poked and pecked through the edible parts and eventually headed home.  What awaited us there for the remainder of the evening?  Whining, shrieking, wailing, sobbing children that didn't nap all day long, dog poop from my mother's dog getting freaked out by the other two dogs we're watching, art messes, cooking prep messes, and two very sleepy parents.  Oh and a nagging papercut I got from my Mothers Day card.  Cool.
What's funny is, each one of these things made me giggle and as they piled on top of each other they made me straight out belly laugh.  There were good moments mixed in.  Scarlet and I fiddled in the garden (now I have a splinter and a paper cut), we played Candyland for the first time (Ryan, not knowing his own brute strength accidentally tore the brand new board game in half) and we played peek-a-boo with Luca (who laughed so hard he puked on his Sunday best).
  By the time I attempted to put the kids to bed I was crying with laughter.  I considered crying with yanno, non-laughter but it all just got too silly.  By 9pm both kids were a complete mess and wouldn't go to bed.  I dug in deep, tried to find a little zen amongst the dueling sobs, bit my lower lip and decided to just roll with it.  My arms were full of wailing little Luca (who normally goes to bed on his own, happy as a clam) which meant I couldn't read Scarlet her normal bedtime stories.  Heart broken (and exhausted) she cried "you haafffa reeeeaaaaad me stoooorrieeeeesss" while I one handedly changed her into her pj's, guided her through her routine and tucked her in.  She cried while she slipped each leg into her jammie pants.  She cried while she brushed her teeth and eventually she cried as she climbed into her bed.   Luca was swaddled tightly in my left arm and he squirmed with all his might and cried with all his fury in protest to me and solidarity with his sister.  I sat there, on the side of Scarlet's toddler bed with the ineffective calm of the twilight turtle waves playfully lapping about the ceiling and thought what the hell should I do?  They're both exhausted, they're both strong willed and both WILL NOT give in once they start crying.  They both need more from me right this moment then I have to offer either of them.  I envisioned hours of tears before me and somewhere in the back of my mind I resigned any hopes of peace, time to myself or even sleep on this Mothers Day.  I took a deep breath and started to sing..  'cause it was something to do and I was out of ideas.  I sang nonsense lyrics to a nonsense song.  Most of it didn't even rhyme.   Rhyming while children are wailing is not easily accomplished.  I sang things like

 "I don't know what to do.

You two have come unhinged.

So I'll just sing.... about anything...

Until I think of something better to do."

  As soon as Scarlet's head hit the pillow she closed her eyes, and her sobs turned to whimpers, so I just kept singing.   I rambled about things I saw around me, how my shoulder muscles were seizing from holding squirming Luca, how I couldn't believe my dumb song was working.  And it was. After about three minutes in, both kids were quiet with their eyes closed.  I sang for a few more minutes to seal the deal and not press my luck (<-- I think those are actual song lyrics I used) and sure enough they were out.  I win! I @^($#*%)$ WIN!   I felt like a heavy weight champion who just did 10 rounds in the ring and came out the victor!  I threw myself a mental parade, held my chin high and very carefully (but with swagger) transferred Luca into the cosleeper.  I walked out of the kids rooms feeling my cape flap in the wind behind me.   So here I am, on Mothers Day having what?  ME TIME!  Oh yeah!   Pay no attention to the fact that I used that time to myself to rehash what was really, a very hard day and just be happy that I blogged.  :)   Now, onto the next adventure - sleep!  Dosed out in very little increments and interrupted by a tiny shrieking pterodactyl baby.  Cool.

Anyway blog, I missed ya.  This was good.  We should do this again some time.