On the 3rd day.

Every time the hubs leaves for a business trip, the kids are overcome with something making them especially crazy. A nice thing about moving to Charlotte, is that his travel is down a lot. Nonetheless, I found myself single momming it this week.


This was my first time since school started that I was all on my own and I was pretty proud of myself for my accomplishments. We were on time for school every morning, my forgetting dessert in Coops lunch was saved by my stash of skittles in the glove box and I even made a little Pinterest dinner. 


Don’t worry, those Mummy Dogs, wrapped in all that buttery, flaky processed deliciousness, were made with healthy, nitrate-free turkey dogs. Balances each other out, right?


Day 3 was going just as well as the other days…until I make mention that dad is coming home late tonight. It’s like they needed to get the rest of their insanity out before dad gets home. I’m the strict one. I have no idea how dad commands so much respect. 


We walk in the door from school and I tell the boys that I just cleaned everything so lets not make a mess. I give an extra special little warning to Cooper, as he headed into his bathroom. The room I have to work the hardest to maintain any resemblance of cleanliness. 


2 minutes later I hear the dreaded “Mom, I’ve got some bad news”. When I walk into the bathroom, Cooper points to a big puddle as he explains that he “didn’t know his penis was pointed sideways”. Uh-huh. Great. Pee on every surface but the toilet. Whatever. Clean again, moving on.


We eat our Pinterest-y dinner and I take off Callan’s shirt to spray some Shout on the ketchup schmeered all over it. I come out from the laundry room to a dance party. Very normal at our house, but Cooper was quickly disrobing to one up his topless brother. Again, whatever. Dance with your nips out. 


Except he didn’t stop till he was completely nude, streaking through the open windowed apartment. 


I’m really glad we’re only here temporarily. Our neighbors must think we’re crazy folk. Well, not as crazy as our upstairs neighbors. Ya know, the ones with 10 kids who just got a brand new puppy. They’re so quiet. 


I ask Cooper to at least put his underwear back on, to which he quickly obeyed. Yeah, look at that first time obedience. You got this mom thing perfected. Endless laughter makes me look to see one particular body part was sticking out of his drawers. Who knew boys wanted to flaunt it at 5?


I’m tempted to grab a glass of wine, but I’m so proud of my self discipline in being healthier and cutting it out during the week. What a foolish idea. Note to self, when you’re single momming it, drink wine every night. 


I finish cleaning the kitchen and tell the boys to head to the bath. I’m literally 2 steps behind them, and yet Cooper has managed to drop the only clothing he was still wearing and is peeing IN THE TUB. Obviously, I grab the phone and text the hubs, instructing him to better teach where peeing is acceptable. “Look mom, I did it right under the faucet. We’ll wash it right out!”


Yes, yes we will. No, I will. For the second time today, I’ll wash this bath tub.

I finish bathing them both and sink down to the floor to watch them play. A couple big splashes from Cooper, followed by a thud and shriek that typically only comes before death. Cooper needs immediate medical attention as he writhes and moans from hitting his knee on the drain. The blood…oh, the blood. Enough to barely see on a tissue, may as well be a severed limb to him. But forget a bandaid. Apparently, those make boo-boos hurt more. 


It’s finally time to tuck my sweet little loves in bed and it’s not a second too soon. Those grey hair producing, heart stopping, banshees of mine are so angelic when they sleep. Those peaceful little glances are the things that make me do insane things, like tell the hubs I want another baby. I’ll change my mind later when someone is skydiving off a bed or surfing on the island. 


Mothering boys isn’t for the faint of heart.