Hello Thursday – why are you beating up on me?

I have sorely neglected this blog – – I have not written a word about my own little crazy town since last May.  Isn’t it ironic that the very madness that inspired this blog actually prevents me from writing it?

Well, today was one of those days that was begging to be documented.  I’m not sure it’s funny; some may find it tragic.  But it is in fact my every day nonsense and mayhem that I never knew I always wanted when I spent so long praying for some babies.

Here is my day – just a Thursday – nothing special – maybe it’ll help you feel better about your day. Maybe not. Here goes:


Wake up and enjoy the silence before the insanity begins.


Wake up the boys.  They don’t need to leave for school until 7:30, but my kids are way lacking in the hustle department so we need a good hour to brush the teeth, eat the muffins, and put the shoes on.  (Sidebar: I hope that one day I meet that special someone who can please explain to me why the putting on of the shoes always takes so very much longer than it should.  That person is my Yoda.)


Pack lunches/snacks/water bottles and sign and deliver all forms/permission slips to appropriate folders while boys eat breakfast. (Sidebar: My mother had 4 kids.  She did NOT have the amount of paperwork that I have.  I have seriously considered hiring an administrative assistant.  Or creating a mom-ternship.)


Check on Sofie – – she is supposed to wake up with her alarm at 6:45, but I have found that she often relies on her not so reliable internal clock.  She is fast asleep.  Wake her – tell her to hustle, knowing full well she does not know the meaning of that word.


Check on Izzi – she is supposed to wake up with her alarm at 7, which she usually does but I like to be thorough.  She’s awake, so I’m thinking it’s going to be a great day. (Cue Donald Trump yelling “WRONG!” into the mic in my head)



Take the boys to school.  Give myself an internal pat on the back – – You’re halfway there. 2 down, 2 to go!


Get home to find Sofie finishing her breakfast and Izzi nowhere to be found.  I’m told she’s in the shower and I relax because she will surely be coming downstairs any second to finish packing her lunch and to make and eat her breakfast before we leave at 8 because Sofie has to be at school by 8:10 for tutorials.


Izzi finally arrives.  She is absorbed in her iPad screen. Sofie does me a favor and finishes up Izzi’s lunch to ensure we can still get out on time.  Izzi moves like a sloth who has been drinking.  HUSTLE – I silently urge her with my eyes.  But, no.  It is clear that this is a lost battle as the clock alerts me it is now time to go.


Tell Izzi I’ll be back for her and get Sofie out the door.  Once we’re in the car, Sofie realizes she left her lunch bag. Tick tock tick tock. Finally, she is back and we are on our way.  I’m dreaming about coffee and naps when I realize I will have to wait longer than usual because I still have to head home, grab Izzi and head back to my personal circle of hell that is the middle school morning drop off line (insert silent scream here).

Thankfully, there’s no line at 8:10. Wish Sofie well.  And head back home.


Pick up Izzi and head back to the middle school.  Sit in dreaded drop off line. Sit some more. Wish Izzi well and head home.


Blessed coffee. I’m sure there is nothing better at 8:40AM on a Thursday than a quiet house and a cup of coffee.


9 – 11AM

Work on answering the eight million emails that have accumulated in my in-box since yesterday. Where do they all come from?  Begin working on a pro bono project for a local not-for-profit. Happily agree to volunteer to help with a middle school club, as if I have no recollection of what my days already look and feel like.


Go out to buy white dress socks for Dean because they are a vital part of his costume for an upcoming performance in the Aristocats.  I thought this would be an easy task, but it wasn’t.  Apparently – boys haven’t worn white dress socks since John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever days. But, I’m nothing if not resourceful. And if anyone tells Dean I bought him girls’ dress socks, I will deny it and you will no longer be allowed to read my blog.

Then head out to buy Izzi some black heels and tights, also necessary for her upcoming performance in the Aristocats.

Buy some groceries so we can have tacos for dinner and head home to care for the puppy and tidy up the house.


Clean the kitchen – walk the dog – run the wash – and it’s time to pick up the boys.  Realize I have not yet showered. I disgust myself.


The boys come out of school.  Dean is first – and he tells me he has terrible news and I will be very angry with him and may even punish him.  Fantastic.  Then I see Luca – except Luca is not wearing the clothes he went to school in.  When your 5-year-old ends his kinder day in his backpack emergency change of clothes it can only mean one thing: he had an accident.  While in PE.  While JUMP ROPING.  Yes, he did.  Teachers don’t make enough money.


Learn that Dean hasn’t been doing much of his online homework.  Talk to him sternly and firmly about how he will resolve this and then sit back and watch as my usually sweet-as-sugar first born son starts yelling at me. Of course I know it is only because he is angry with himself and afraid of what technology will be taken away from him.  But – it is still no fun.  Then talk to Luca about his accident, which makes him cry, which makes me feel like MOTHER OF THE YEAR! Why is this day not over yet?


Drive to the middle school so we can enjoy our 40 minute long ritual where we park around the corner and wait for our girls, and sometimes an extra, to grace us with their tween presence. All I could think about is Luca’s dirty clothes just sitting and festering in his backpack.  OCD mommy’s worst nightmare. Resolve to write a note to Luca’s teacher asking that his clothes be trashed or burned should he have an accident again. No need to send them home like a special surprise.


Text the girls to remind them that Sofie has Student Council and their friend has an after school meeting so today, it is just Izzi. I hope she hurries.  I need to get to my washing machine and I need to throw Luca in a shower.


Izzi finally gets her sloth-like butt in the car.  We head home and just as I’m within spitting distance of home, my phone rings.  It’s Sofie.  Student Council is cancelled and I need to go get her. Sigh.  U-turn.  Back we go.


I have all 4 kids locked and loaded.  We get home.  I put Izzi in charge of Nunzio the wonder dog, while I tend to Luca.  I quickly realize his sneakers are soaked. Ew. Lucky for us – I have a new pair because last year, the sneakers were buy one, get one half off. I bought the second pair a size up and it was time to bust them out.  I told Luca to throw his pee pee PE shoes in the garage, I grabbed the dreaded wet clothes bag out of his backpack, taking great care to ensure nothing else was contaminated, and I threw his clothes into the washing machine and him into the shower.


Just as I feel myself relaxing, Sofie yells down that she needs me to pin her choir dress.  See, she is in choir and they had to pay for these black gowns that they need to wear to all concerts.  Great – except that the dresses apparently are made for Amazon girls with legs for days.  That’s not my Sofie.  So, she has been needing to get the dress hemmed.  I thought we should take it to tailor.  She thought she should sew it herself.  She has a concert on Saturday and her dress is not yet hemmed. So, now – in the midst of post-accident clean-up, dinner prep and homework, I must act as the tailor’s apprentice.


I’m done with Sofie – she is ready to sew.  I start getting my gourmet dinner (tacos) going when Luca walks over to me and says:

Ms. XXX told me at lunch NO MORE CANDY.

What? Halloween was 3 days ago. I pack my kid’s lunch.  No one is going to tell me that he can’t have candy. What’s that all about??!! I can’t even process it so I simply tell Luca:

Forget about what Ms. XXX told you.  I’m your mommy and I will decide what you eat. You will bring candy tomorrow. And Monday. And Tuesday. And so on.

Words that I just know will make me everyone’s favorite parent…

Are you tired? I am. And it’s only 8:10PM.  Seems like a good time for some good scotch as I try to find the merriment in today’s madness…img_0444





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