Dear God, it’s me, the neurotic mother of two

I am on the brink of a neurotic breakdown. It’s amazing that I am able to write this. I do believe that my sweet, sweet children have been abducted by aliens and replaced with naughty little people.

The one stretch of time that I need them to behave and be extra good, they have lost their minds. Of course this would happen this way; why would it not? The Most Wonderful Man on Earth had surgery last week and will be down for the count for at least two weeks. The poor thing had a terrible night in the hospital where I lovingly slept (or tried) in a very uncomfortable armchair. I will say that his night was probably worse than mine though, just a little bit.

I brought him home and my wonderful mother was here holding down the fort; which meant multiple trips to McDonalds, the playground and to get frozen yogurt. I was surprised they had not turned into french fries in the short time I was away. But nevertheless, they were completely enamored with Nani before she left. I should have sent them with her.
The second I was alone with my recovering hubby and the little darlings, they pounced. They took advantage of their poor vulnerable mother, not listening, being loud and of course bouncing off the walls. I am sure McDonald’s is to blame, otherwise my sweet, darling little angels would never act this way, right?

Wrong, the next day and the next I wanted to pull my hair out and to be honest, theirs too.  I was sore, exhausted and being pushed over the edge.  My poor husband is the best patient so no complaints there; it’s just our offspring that were causing me to go bonkers. Thankfully, some dear friends stepped in and carted the little man off to church activities for most of the day that left me with the Tasmanian devil, otherwise known as my precious flower. Everything she touched resulted in a huge mess, if I attempted to correct her she would melt, literally. She would slither down to the floor like a limp rag doll and proceeded to kick her feet and cry with her face buried into the floor. I was in shock and by the end of the day ready for her to go to bed at 5:30 p.m.

So now, it is Monday, a fresh start to the week at least I hope. All signs this morning point to my little guy having returned to this planet, however, I do believe his sister is still out there somewhere, for there is still a little naughty child here in her place (sigh). As my mother always says, “This, too, shall pass.” I can only hope that it does with the speed of light.


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