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Fill Your Tank

by bkhoury on May 03, 2012

Do the laundry… AGAIN. Sweep the floor….AGAIN. “Mommy I’m really hungry.” “Mommy I want the yellow cup, not the green cup.” “I want to pour the milk myself!”

It’s not even 8:00 am and I feel like I’ve run a marathon already.  The good news is the ten times up and down the stairs are great for my gluteus maximus.  Wait, then why is it still so maximus? Oops one more time up after remembering I forgot to brush my own teeth.  The monotony of motherhood is getting to me, not to mention cleaning up after these monkeys is really boring. 

The news today has escaped me. The shower has escaped me. I pick up Will at preschool like a shrinking violet with my wrinkled, stained shirt I accidently pulled on in a rush this morning. I try not to be noticed (or smelled) and I feel wholly inadequate surrounded by all the yummy mummies. I hope they didn’t see my uni-brow shimmering in the sunlight. I get back in the car and realize the gas tank is on empty and so is mine.

During nap time instead of frantically trying to get my to do list checked off, I lay on the couch, put my feet up and turn on HGTV.  Will comes down explaining very matter of factly that he can’t sleep. He must sense he is treading on thin ice because he turns on his rare charm and gives me a big hug, snuggles up next to me and watches House Hunters without so much as a peep.  Soon we are both breathing heavily off into dreamland. 

Maybe my tank is half full now with just enough in it to get dinner on the table.  Now if I could just get rid of the guilt for getting exactly zippo accomplished this afternoon.  Guilt? Yep, a reminder that I’m a certified mom running on “E”.

  • Blimey, I know exactly what you mean!

    By ShelleyP on May 5, 2012 at 06:47 PM
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