I want to start this post by saying that I've haven't been as mad as I am right now ... in a long long LONG time.
Pissed is not even a good description of how I feel. If you were to insert a thermometer into my veins at this precise moment ... I can pretty much bet you on my children, that my blood would be boiling. BOILING I TELL YOU!
But wait, if I'm wrong ... does that mean you'd get my children as a reward? Does it? OKAY THEN, I'm sure my blood is not ACTUALLY boiling.
You win. Game over. When are you coming to retrieve your prize?
You're not? Damn it.
I wouldn't either.
They are the reason I'm so upset. Why I'm beyond words, really. Composing this post is actually just a means for me to calm down before I seriously consider strangling my youngest child. Yeah, that sweet little angel that is pictured above. The one in her bed and never allowed to come out of her room again.
BRAT!
HEATHEN!
TOTAL ..... I don't know what. But Total Something!!
I will not give you all the details. Reliving the entire situation may cause my heart to start pounding out of my chest again, and I'm just now starting to calm down a bit.
You are great therapy. Just so you know.
Long story short. I obviously was not paying close enough attention to my children. AND NO I WAS NOT ENGROSSED IN A "THE HILLS" EPISODE. My girls were behaved perfectly for the 2 hours I indulged in that. It was after wards that I lost control of them.
Jake begins screaming from the basement. "MOM! MOM! MMMMMOOOOOOMMMM!" That in and of itself ticked me off, because I CAN.NOT.STAND for my kids to yell for me from another room. If you want to talk to me ... stand up and use your legs to bring yourself to me. Period.
So, I holler back at him to come up and talk to me if he feels there is something soooo important that he needed to scream.
He did. And to be completely honest, I have no idea what he said. But, the look on his face and the fact that he ran back down the stairs before I answered ... intrigued me enough to follow.
Part of me wishes I hadn't. Maybe if I ignored it, it wouldn't have happened.
I know you all are expecting some huge. And it may not be a big deal to some of you. But ... to me it was.
MILK.
MILK and SIPPY CUPS.
MILK. SIPPY CUPS and NO SIPPY CUP PLUGS.
MILK. SIPPY CUPS. NO SIPPY CUP PLUGS and GIGGLING GIRLS.
MILK. SIPPY CUPS. NO SIPPY CUP PLUGS. GIGGLING GIRLS. DANCING IN THE "SNOWSTORM".
I'm going to say ONE thing. I do not allow any drinks out of my kitchen. Ever.
That and it took me almost 2 hours to wipe down walls, send my children to bed without showers or books, dap up furniture, scream for my children to never come within 2 feet of me again, scrub carpet, reiterate that this is the exact reason beverages belong in the kitchen only, febreeze everything in sight, kick the cat, vacuum every square inch of carpet vveerryy sssslllowly just to be sure I suck every drip up, and then regret not taking a picture to share with you all before I went into my frenzy. Because I KNEW you'd like that.
The sight of it was truly unbelievable.
Okay. My temper is still raging.
I guess you'll have to tell me about something one of your kids did that totally lit your fuse and then blew it threw the roof.
Yeah ... do that. I think that will make me feel much better.
