Mommie Daze. The Fog of Motherhood.
I don’t know if I’ve ever really explained what that is.
It’s days like today.
This morning before David left for school he was running laps around the dining room table. For no reason. Just going in circles around and around the five foot long table. It kind of reminded me of a dog chasing it’s tail. Meanwhile I’m trying to get his backpack packed, him out the door and his brother breakfast. Trying to be organized while chaos is going around me.
When he came home he got off the bus and ran down the driveway, arms flung wide, yelling as loud as he could, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Why? I don’t know.
As we walked up the steps to go back into the house there’s Wade standing on the other side of the storm door licking the glass. I mean a full-on lick. Like the door was an ice cream cone. Then he spent the rest of the day licking everything in the house. Furniture, walls, David’s face. The dog.
Yes. The dog. Wade licked the dog.
We ate lunch. Then there was some sort of scuffle between the boys. They were fighting over a toy. Little two year old Wade socked big six year old David, and they were both crying.
Wade’s scrappy. He’s tiny, but he’s tough.
I was trying to break up things up, and stop the screaming when I looked over and saw our dog standing in the middle of the table. She was looking for lunch leftovers.
I was in the thick of The Fog of Motherhood.
I put the dog back on the ground. I got the boys settled down. Everyone made apologies. Wade laid down for a nap. David started watching a movie, and I sat on the couch.
Tired.
Mindlessly eating a cupcake.
In a Mommie Daze.
Just last night (after I had worked all day, went to a home inspection and refused to cook dinner), my girls, 9 & 10, chased each other around the fireplace (my house makes a circle), yelling random commands at each other in fake British accents, while the puppy chased them and barked. That is precisely why I retreated to my bedroom at 9 pm.
I remember a little blonde heaed girl back in the 70’s, who used to lick the cat. You take those two adorable grandsons of mine and multiply by 2 and you have my whole class of 28 students. Yes, I know they are 4th graders and ten years old, but the last month of school they’re acting like pre-schoolers.