I don’t get it.  Spring break?  I don’t think so.  Those two words (put together) are not in the SAHM’s vocabulary.  At least not this SAHM.  No freaking way.  Nope.  Not in the slightest.

My week?  It’s already looking like a little slice of hell served on a dish.  Make that a platter, served by the devil himself.  I’m already dreading it.  This weekend won’t be so bad.  Tonight, my children are doing sleepovers.  I have my niece over spending the night with Big Girl, and they’ll be okay.  But Baby Girl is running a fever of 101.8 last time I checked (pre-Motrin), now she’s down (during Motring), but currently very moody (is it too early for PMS at 19 months old?).  The constant crying if I’m not holding her just adds a little background noise if I get bored, right?

Now, my son…he’s a whole different story himself.  Fresh off the bus, I notice he has on a different pair of pants than I sent him to school in.  And these sweatpants that do not belong to him are extremely over-sized, unbearably ugly and about to fall off his skinny little size tiny body.  Boy is in first grade, is six, and is turning seven this July.  My first thought is, “oh holy hell, he peed his pants at school.  Or worse, he took a dump in them.  WTF.”  So I say, “what happened to your pants, buddy?”  He said, “I just spilled something on my pants at school, that’s all.”  Whew.  What a relief.  At least I don’t have that kid.  You know.  That one.

Then I ask him if he wants to spend the night with his cousin for his birthday.  Let me remind you, Boy has major social anxiety.  He does not bode well in social settings, and his cousin does not attend the same elementary school he does.  So Boy will not know these children his cousin has coming over.  His cousin’s friends are not Boy’s friends.  This will cause a major disruption in Boy’s brain, and cause all kinds of electric currents to go off in his brain and things will be going haywire in there.  Good luck to my brother and his wife. When you flip out because you can’t find Boy because he’s done his normal flipping out and running and hiding, because he can’t handle the pressure of the social scene, odds are, he will be hiding under a bed, in a closet, or behind a piece of furniture.  Good luck to you.  Oh, and tell your sanity good riddance as well.  At least I sent him with his iPod, so he can FaceTime me when he needs to chat.  So, I expect no sleep tonight, because I will be on the phone with him nonstop.  He won’t want to leave, but he won’t want to get off FaceTime with me either.  I’m already smiling from the excitement.  Woo-hoo!  (Enter sarcasm here.)

Oh, here comes Big Girl asking if her friend can spend the night as well.  Yay me!

And did I forget to mention, I’m now the soccer coach for Big Girl’s soccer team?  Yep, yours truly is coaching her U8 soccer team.  And I don’t know one f’ing thing about soccer.  I know your supposed to stay on the field (and I now know it’s called a field, after I called it a court the other day and got told that it definitely was NOT a court – it was a field!) and I know you are supposed to try to kick it into the goal, and not use your hands.  That is the extent of my knowledge of soccer.  Beyond that, I know nothing.  So, good luck to me!  And with my luck, I’m not even starting at a young age, I’m starting where the parents are going to want a competitive coach and the kids probably know a lot, and have been playing for a couple years.  Where we are from, soccer is pretty big (at least in this county).  So I figure I’m going to spend most of my season being yelled at by my parents.  I haven’t gotten a chance to hold practice yet, because we were rained out this past week.  And next week (spring break) I will be out of town on our regularly scheduled practice night, and so will my assistant coach (my sister), so we are moving the practice to Tuesday nights, and the forecast is calling for rain.  Our first game is the following Saturday.  All with no practice it’s looking like.  WINNERS!

Back to spring break.  Here’s how mine is shaping up to be:

Monday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

6pm-7pm: Boy – boy scouts

Tuesday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

5:30pm-7pm: soccer practice (if it doesn’t rain)

Wednesday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

1pm-3pm: Big Girl’s friend’s birthday party

7pm – Maroon 5 concert in DC (and I have floor seats baby!! Best part of the week!  I get to see the man of my dreams Adam Levine!)

Big Girl has a sleepover

Thursday:

8am-8:30am – pick Big Girl up from sleepover

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

Friday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

1pm – Take Big Girl and Baby Girl to my mom

3pm – Boy has psychiatric appointment at UVA (for his social anxiety – he has check-ups every two months)

Big Girl has another sleepover

Saturday:

2pm – Boy has counseling

sometime (haven’t gotten the schedule yet) our first soccer game

Sunday:

Easter – Family gathering – may require either Xanax or drinking.  Probably heavy drinking after the week I’ve had.  Or just a Xanax.  Who knows?  I guess time will tell.

my crazy calendar the week of spring break (and the rest of the month actually!)

my crazy calendar the week of spring break (and the rest of the month actually!)

Anyway, that is how my so-called “Spring Break” is looking – as of today.  I feel like everyday it’s changing, every day something new is happening and my calendar is growing and growing.  I was supposed to be heading to the beach for a relaxing vacation.  Doesn’t look so relaxing, now does it?  But then again, motherhood isn’t relaxing when you have three children ages 7 and under.

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Monkey Poo Flinging Day

Holy freakin’  moly.  It’s a “I need want to pop a Xanax and wash it down with a triple shot of Patron margarita” day.  Ha.  If only.  Right?  If only death wasn’t the result.

What the hell is going on today?  Everyone is driving me insane!  Everyone.  Literally.

The baby won’t stop crying.  She’s sitting in my lap as I’m typing, because if I put her down, the flood gates open.  She’s only happy in my lap.  Other than that, all hell breaks loose.

Boy got off the bus being in a mood.  This has been a great, fun afternoon with him.  Let me tell you what.  He decided in order for his homework to be done, he needed to sharpen his pencil in our automatic pencil sharpener.  So he sticks the pencil in, lets it twirl around and around, and he dances all around the office while this is happening.  Meanwhile, the pencil is not being sharpened, just twirling around and around, and is making that horrific grinding sound.  You know, the one you can just feel down to your bone?  Yeah, that one.  It goes on and on for about ten minutes straight.  I finally decide to walk in there and see what is going on and try to navigate him out of there and back towards his homework.  Only, I get to the office a second too late.  Baby Girl got there first.  And of course, Boy didn’t like that.  He slammed her hand in the office door.  Nice big brother, right?  Just what I was thinking.  So that set off the wailing sirens again.  Fun times, I’ll tell ya!

After I finally get him settled back into his seat and start to work on homework, he then pulls out his portraits from his backpack from their spring pictures they had taken at school and received today to bring home.  Big Girl tries to look at his, and he looses all control.  He looks like a gorilla with big swinging arms trying to collect them all before she can sneak a peek at the face she sees everyday.  Big ol’ Donkey Kong making grunting noises, trying to prevent his sister from seeing a picture of his mug, which turns into another fight.  I   They start batting and swinging a little, hit and miss, pencils in hand.  I may as well just have monkeys running around flinging poo at each other.  I feel like that’s what is happening anyway.  At least I may have a shot at someone listening.  The monkeys may actually listen better to me than my own children.  There’s a pretty good chance of that, actually.

After the homework battle is finally complete, we move on to the battle of the Baby Girl.  She is just walking around and around crying and crying.  Why you ask?  Why am I not holding her?  Comforting her?  Seeing what is wrong?  Oh believe me, I have.  I’ve done it all.  She’s fed.  She’s been changed.  She’s healthy.  She’s not teething.  She’s 110% happy – as long as she’s in my arms.  She is so spoiled rotten.  She will be crying so hard you’d think she needs to go to the emergency room because she looks like she has a broken bone, and then Mommy picks her up, and she’s giggling so hard and she’s so happy!  What an actress she is.  She has such a brilliant personality at a year-and-a-half old already.  I can’t stand the fact that I have to face this for the next sixteen years or so.  I have a feeling she’ll outwit me a time or two.  This one seems pretty good…I may have met my match…

And that, my friends, is quite the scary thought.

Thankfully, I have a great hubby coming to the rescue.  He’s bringing home dinner.  Yep, we’re cheating tonight.  Cheating together!  With food.  He’s bringing home takeout from one of our favorite places to eat.  Good old Glory Days.

Yum. Sauce.