Three kids y'all (insert deep sigh and wide eyes). I know I'm not the first mom to have 3 kids all close in age, nor will I be the last. I also know I'm not the only mom that already feels the summer crazies happening before the first day of summer break even begins. This week has been a week dear readers. A week of sleeplessness, adult sized expenses (I'm looking at you new HVAC), and we should probably supply ear plugs for visitors for the volume my kids emit. Sometimes I feel like my life is a literal sitcom, so this week's episode of "Ashley's life" is no different.
After school hours are literally the sweetest time of day or the craziest. It was about 3:45pm, too late for a snack but still too early to feed the inmates dinner. The two year old was literally running laps around the house, screaming at the top of her lungs. The four year old was running back and forth between whatever she was playing with. She doesn't walk anywhere, so running is the only speed she has. Meanwhile, the 10-month old was crawling like crazy, and I needed to pump. I haven't been able to locate my power source for the pump, so I had to scramble to find the battery pack.
Just imagine the tornado of 3 toddlers running around, it's exactly as you imagine it. Throw in me attached to a breast pump, carrying the pump around, trying to keep the flanges attached (I don't pump usually, so I don't have a handsfree solution), and debating what mess isn't worth ignoring while I pump. Spoiler alert- a gallon of milk spilling isn't worth ignoring. When your 4 year old has a gallon of almond milk and a glass out on the counter, you reach deep inside to find the skillset to prevent it while you are pumping milk. Once I realize that the measly 5ounces of milk is the best I'll get while parenting, I move on to getting dinner ready.
The volume has exceeded what should be legally allowable and the motion that is happening around me has made me dizzy. I decide its time to open a bottle of wine (for all good reasons). Y'all... I was struggling. I couldn't get the damn screw top bottle open. The bottle was cold, the condensation, the chaos, the feelings of what the Hell is this life, and the damn bottle just would NOT OPEN. At this point I hear laughter. Its my husband walking in to find me struggling with the bottle, and just seeing me. It was in that moment I felt validated. He hugged me, opened the bottle of wine, and basically chuckled as he left for the evening.
Friends, I write this down because parenting in the little years either makes you cry or laugh- a lot. And this scenario has given me such laughter for the sake of not losing my mind. A few things I learned from this scenario:
- Laugh at yourself.
- Know that across the world, there are mommas trying to cook dinner with toddler running, babies crying, and siblings wrestling.
- Text the friend that will laugh with you and not offer advice in the moment
- Let your husband help (open the wine in my case)
- Put your kids to bed early-ish, even if it means you know they'll be up early the next day.
- Solo parenting during witching hours makes you want coffee and wine at the same time.
- I am indeed more capable than I give myself credit.
Cheer me up. What are some crazy evening stories from the trenches of parenthood this week?