A Mothers Day

Yesterday was my second Mothers Day as a mother. Frankly, I think we should have a mothers day a month...even every week. After all we are mothers 365 days a year. Let me tell you what an average day in this Mothers day looks like. 6 am..I feel something wet, I start dreaming that I have fallen asleep with a glass of wine in my hand, only to wake and realize that I have once again woken up in a miniature lake of urine. You see although I swore that my child would never sleep with me..he does. I also promised that my child would not be a picky eater, my child would never have boogers dried to his face and of course my child would not throw fits in the store. How naive. Anyway, back to the wonderful start to my average day. I swim out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom. I throw back the shower curtain and I am immediately faced with a jungle of bath toys. I can a) shower around the boats and GI joes although most likely I will step on something sharp and the first words out of my mouth this bright new day will be filthy and offensive, but whose listening. Or I can b) pick up all the bath toys before showering which will still force me to swear like a truck driver before 7 am because I clearly remember asking Daddy to make sure that the bath toys were picked up last night, and now it is evident that I have clearly been ignored...again. 7am I am blow drying my hair, while wondering why I am bothering because I am going to look at it in 5 minutes, decide that it is the worst hair on the universe and put it into the ever stylish pony tail. I tell Daddy that he needs to get our son dressed as I am running late again. The first time I make this request, I am yet again ignored. 8 am I am at daycare (should already be in my office) and as I am about to leave I am told that I am out of diapers...Crap..8:15 Rite Aid, I forgot my coupon, I have spent 20 dollars before 9am...I dont have 20 dollars...great. Work, Work, Work...day care pick up. On my way home I am listening to the "Chicken Fried" song for the fourth time because my little man likes it....and he doesn't like the car. I look at the passengers seat and there lies my work out clothes. I was supposed to go to the gym. I didn't. When I get home I take my son out of the car seat and try and manuever in the huse with out him seeing his tricycle...he sees it. He cries. I get inside, after almost dropping him on his head as he tries to wiggle out of my arms in an attempt to break free and ride off into the sunset on the tricycle that he can not ride because his feet dont yet touch the pedals. Once inside I carefully lay him on the floor so that he can finish the tantrum that he has started. I have no soy milk. I need soy milk because even though I swore that my child would not be allergic to anything..he is. I decide that water is better for him anyway...right? I look in the freezer, once again my son has a choice of chicken nuggets or turkey dogs..dont have to worry about a veggie, because he won't eat them anyway. His dinner is done. My wine is poured. I move on to making dinner for myself and my three husbands. They come home. We eat. They turn on sports, I go to my room and attempt to watch a gorry murder show in peace. Aint happening.My son wants me....Shocker! I pour more wine. 10pm Daddy and I are trying to get Little man down, he refuses to even think about it unless he is in bed with us......I drift off, and start dreaming that I went to bed with a glass of wine in my hand.