P.A.N.I.C.

It's not even 1pm and I feel like I've aged 13 years today.

This morning was 'just one of those days' to the MAX.

-Last night was a hectic night- so the dishes didn't get washed after a dinner of delicious homemade lentil soup. (I insert that to show that Im not allll delinquent..)
-My eye started being weird last night so today Im wearing my glasses.
-From last night-this morning I've gotten super sick, bad headache, sore throat. So, the house didn't get cleaned this morning like it usually (yes, truthfully, usually) does.
-Patrick was running late so the ironing board/iron were still out in the living room (unplugged, of course).
-Christian also has a runny nose.

Okay so: The house is a true mess. The iron/ironing board are out in plain view. Im wearing my glasses (which, because of the thickness of my lenses actually makes it hard to focus on different things quickly), Im super sick, Christian has a runny nose. Oh, and Christian was being a nakie boy (he was wearing a diaper). (When i feel like crud, I don't fight such petty things as clothes).

Have the scene pictured?

So. Christian was playing in the living room and I went into the nursery to change Channing's diaper. Come out- no Christian. Notice the front door is open. Look in all the rooms. No Christian. Run outside yelling his name- no Christian. Start yelling prayers. (reverently as possible). Run back inside to double check the rooms.On my way inside, I ram my forehead against the metal edge of the glass door and give myself a nice, slightly bloody goose-egg. No Christian. Run outside- panicking now- Yelling, yelling his name. Im dizzy from my head-ram,my migraine, and my overall sickness. I can't see very well. Total panic. Call 911. start crying. neighbor comes out and starts looking. Police parked across the street comes over. Im shaking like a leaf. Police takes 'stats'. Comes inside to double check apartment. I grab channing. Bawling now. Another police lady arrives. Total panic. Couldn't have gone far- but no where to be seen.

Then neighbor comes walking across lawn carrying Christian. I nearly collapse. He was inside the apt. laundry room. Never gone in there before. The police-lady notices my goose-egg. Asks about it. Tell her Im fine- I just rammed my head in the rush. Thank neighbor. Start crying hysterically. Go inside. lay on bed with my boys. Crying, crying. Christian's worried. Asks 'you okay, mommy? You okay?'. When I can breathe again, say a prayer of thanks to Heavenly Father for my boys. Start bawling again. Channing's laughing. Christian worried.

When I've put the boys down for a nap, I look at the 'appearances' of the situation. Disasterous house. Dirty dishes everywhere. Iron out in plain view. Christian just wearing a diaper. Face covered in food and snot. Bloody goose-egg on my head. Realize I look like a completely dilinquent mother. Who doesn't dress her children. And the children live in a pig-sty. With dangerous appliances in reach. With old food out. Who never get bathed. Whose mother has a bloody goose-egg (who knows how that reallly got there..).

Seriously. It was that. bad.

Anybody else have a day like this?

It's like murphy's law: The one day of 45 that you don't shower/dress/clean the house is the one day of 62 that your mother-in-law drops by.

The one day of 2817916592659129862918619 that your 2 year old runs out of the house and totally dissapears and you have the police come in to search your house is the one day of 573 that you are deathly ill, the house is in its WORST STATE EVER, the 2-yr-old in in a diaper, and you have beating on your face.

What are the odds?

PRETTY GOOD, in my case.


Point is: I am incredibly grateful for my boys. Even when they draw on every surface of my apt. imaginable with every artistic tool imaginable, they are my little angels. I am so grateful to have them in my life. To be a part of their lives. To be able to kiss their ouchies, snuggle up with stories, make play-dough eggs with, play wrestle-mania on mommy's bed, feel a first tooth. Im so grateful I get to be their mommy.

i love you, my boys!