Story by Trisha LaCoste
Okay, so here’s the deal. I got to take a trip to Kentucky this week with my husband, Anthony…ALL ALONE! Yes, I said ALONE. We drove 10 hours with no tattling, no crying, no screaming, no fighting, no spills, no puking, and no bathroom breaks every exit. It was so relaxing. I had gotten Anthony tickets to see his Kentucky Wildcats play Auburn at Rupp Arena, which has always been a dream of his. So, anyway, we had a great time and spent way too much money.
Well, I get back into the swing of things today, thinking that I’m going to be such a great mom because I’ve had this refreshing break from my four kids. The day starts off okay. We go to the boys’ basketball game, go to a birthday party, and come home to clean. Well, I’m thinking that I can just knock the cleaning out right away if I let the kids play outside with the neighbor boy. So I sweep, scrub floors, do some laundry, change sheets…you know…all that glamorous stuff that makes being a mom so much fun. In the meantime, I’m checking on the kids every once in a while to make sure no one’s playing in the street or swinging from the electrical wires.
During one of these checks, I discover a huge gap in our fence. Yeah, the cute little neighbor boy and Mason have ripped 5 pickets from off the fence. And yeah, I yell. Oops. Strike one. As I’m going back in the house, I figure it’s time to make the kids clean their room, so I tell them to follow me in. Hunter comes running in crying because he has fallen and scraped his knee. I’m really not in the mood for his over-dramatization, so I put a Band-Aid on it and tell him to clean his room. He gets upset and tells me with tears in his eyes that I should be taking care of him because he’s just a little kid. What a guilt trip. Strike two.
Then, I’m in my room working on that never-ending laundry when I hear Mason telling me that Jayden spilled some sauce. I’m thinking, “What sauce?” but it’s very easily explained when I enter the kitchen. Some one has left the refrigerator door opened and there is marinara sauce and cheese dip all over the floor, the refrigerator, and Jayden–who really seems to be enjoying the stuff.
“WHO LEFT THE REFRIGERATOR DOOR OPENED?!?!”
Mason, who’s really freaked out by my yelling, quietly says, “I accidentally left it opened.” Oops. Strike three for mom. So, after putting Jayden in the tub, I’m back on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. AGAIN. I’m trying so hard to be patient, but sometimes I feel like they watch where I clean and purposely mess it up when I’m done.
Later I run to the store and get a few things we need, including some fruit. My kids love fruit. I can’t keep it in the house, which I think is great! Well, I’m in my room…again…folding laundry. The kids ask if they can have some fruit, ‘like a banana or strawberries.’ I’m thinking that sounds pretty safe…they can get those themselves…so I tell them they can have some. Big mistake. Here comes strike four. Am I allowed more than three strikes? I walk back into the kitchen a few minutes later and there is a watermelon broken apart on the floor with watermelon juice oozing all over the place. And guess who’s right in the middle of the whole big mess? Yep. Jayden. His diaper is sagging to the floor because the watermelon juice has seeped inside of it. This time Kyla gets the brunt of the yelling since she’s the one scooping the watermelon out with her hands and eating it. So, where am I again? Yep. Scrubbing the kitchen floor for the third time today, asking myself why I didn’t just stay in Kentucky.
But you know what? All of that scrubbing seems to be forgotten when I tuck those little monkeys in bed and hear them pray, “Thank you for mom and dad…help me be strong when I fall and hurt my knee…thank you for loving us and saving us.”
As frustrated as I can get, I would never trade my glamorous life for anything. Those are my little monkeys, and they sure know how to melt my heart!
