Thursday, February 17, 2011

Life in the Weeds

I keep thinking back to this saying I used to hear when I waited tables back in the day, "I'm in the weeds."  Truly, it runs through my brain on a continuous loop more and more.  The addition of a third child factored with a two-year old and more has put me over a barrel.

I look at my kitchen windows and see that only one blind has been pulled up to reveal the outside world.  It is at a haphazard angle and crooked while the remaining windows are still drawn shut.  I think to myself, "Yup, that about sums up my week. My life, as of late. Half-assed.  Haphazard and askew."  My shit is all apart. 

Take the fact that the kitchen sink clogged the other night.  Just before we were headed out the door for the Disney on Ice spectacular the damn thing clogs up.  As the kids sit down to an early bird dinner, TD asking, "What is wrong that we are having dinner so early?"  I remove the contents from underneath the sink and begin to unscrew the pipes.  I pray that dirty drain water doesn't spray me in the face.  The clog doesn't budge.  I scoop the water out of the sink and beg the girls to keep this to themselves. "DON'T TELL DADDY THE SINK IS CLOGGED.  We have to be in the city in an hour!"

He isn't even in the door when TD yells, "Daddy! The sink is clogged and Mommy...." Do I need to go on?  Cue clenched teeth and shoulders scrunched to my ears. 

Cut to the next morning. The sink is still clogged.  Armed with the bucket for disgusting drain water and a plunger I again remove the under the sink contents, get the trusty bucket in place and unscrew the last remaining pipe where surely the clog must be.  It's then I hear a noise that doesn't sound quite right.  I look to my right, then left. The plunger is missing.  Gone.  It was just here!  I peer over the counter to see The Comedian has gone stealth and taken the plunger from the kitchen and moved to The Fifth Element who is currently being held captive in her exersaucer.  You guessed it, she's sticking the dirty, toilet scuffing, sink unclogging, germ-infested plunger in the baby's face! 

"Plunge! Plunge, my cute baby sister, squishy cheeks! Let me plunge your kissy face!"  I swear, that is running through The Comedian's mind as she waggles and shoves the plunger into her sister's no longer clean face.  I charge and the plunger drops to the floor. The Comedian takes off running back into the kitchen.


I round the corner to see she has taken the bucket and poured it out onto the kitchen floor.  Dirt brown water, laden with coffee grounds and bits of old food slosh the wooden floor and seep out all over.  I scream. I pant with irritation and exasperation.  I bite my lower lip and tears prick my eyes.  If my hand were not so crusted in dirty sink water I would bite it to keep from screaming. 

In one minute this has all taken place.  This is just one of the minutes of my day.  It doesn't factor in the countless pairs of shoes and tiny toys I will trip over or crunch beneath my feet.  The popcorn I will find littered on the dining room table, kitchen floor and under the den coffee table.  The diaper that is removed and left for funkification on the den floor will be found hours after it was removed.  I will never be able to recall actually seeing The Comedian without a diaper at any given point but I know I must have put a new one on and realized one was missing.  Burp cloths will go in the trash.  The dog will poop on the floor.  Milk will be spilled more than once in various rooms and the dog will puke somewhere else.  Spit up happens, emergency baths are needed and Alfredo sauce will boil over from the sauce pan and become a thick, gluey mess on the burner and underneath it.  The laundry monster chuckles in a corner and thinks of spawning.

This is my life.  THIS is my life? This is my LIFE!  Oh Lord, this is my life.... It's sprinting for a marathon.

Forget 'pearls are optional. attitude is a must.'  This is life in the weeds and I feel like I am about to be eighty-sixed at any given moment.


  1. I have this feeling sooooo often too. I have to constantly remind myself that this stage is temporary and will pass. Things will get easier, in the day to day run of things. Yes, teens are tough too....believe me, I've had my share of drama with her this year. But at least she can feed herself and pick up after herself and occupy herself. Having babies/toddlers/preschoolers is tough, my friend.

  2. Anonymous1:59 PM

    You are freaking hysterical! I love this post! I too have those times!



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