The day wasn't off to a bad start. I actually got up on time and had time to myself to get ready, make the kids' lunches, make my bed and do the budget. Then the wonderful time arrives when my clan comes running into my room, dressed in who knows what - but definately not their pajamas, with a Rescue Hero in one hand and a stuffed animal in the other ready to cuddle on Mommy's bed. I wouldn't trade our morning routine for the world! I go in and get Chloe and we all hang out on my bed for a while - it's great!
Then stomachs start growling and we all head to the kitchen. Of course, no one wants the same breakfast food, so I play 'short order cook' for the next few minutes. All the while, Chloe is crying for her bottle. What kind of mother am I? My infant has gone a whole night without drinking a bottle; I'm sure she feels neglected when I don't give her a bottle the instant she wakes up in the morning. This was the case this morning.
Bennett's cereal is sitting on the table (with milk already in it), Gavin's waffle is in the toaster, Chloe is in my arms and crying for her bottle that I'm in the middle of preparing while I'm talking to Chuck on the phone. Can we say 'multitasking'? I'm encouraging Bennett to get to the table to eat his cereal before it gets soggy while Gavin is telling him not to go in the kitchen. I ask Gavin what the problem is and he informs me that there are "like 39 thousand, hundred ants in the kitchen". I was just in there earlier and didn't notice, so I go over to that side of the kitchen and sure enough, there's a nice little trail leading from the garbage can in the utility room (which is overflowing) down the wall and then under the table (directly under Gavin's seat) to all the crumbs. That is when I officially 'loose it'.
I call Chuck back and ask him what I'm supposed to do. I have way too many things to do and don't have time to clean it all up. He gives me a few suggestions and I blame the whole thing on him (it's easier that way - then I didn't have to take responsibility). My emotions continue to go further and further out of control. I feed Chloe, get the beginnings of a migraine and sit down to fume. Meanwhile, I hear the boys in the other room talking about who's fault it is and why Mommy is mad. That brought me back to reality. I was horribly wrong and handling my frustrations very negatively. I apologized to them, called Chuck back and apologized to him, prayed for strength - and received it. It's always so humbling when your children remind you that you handled your frustration wrong. I better practice what I preach because my audience is most definately paying attention!
Thankfully, everyone ate, we got the ants under control and even started school on time. The headache didn't go away until the afternoon - but at least it went away.
