I'm Grumpy...Seriously Grumpy

So today was one of those days. Woke up sweating in an eighty degree bedroom (we had a MASSIVE electric bill so we're trying not to run our air as much), but still, I was bound to not let it ruin my day, which it didn't. Fast forward to the boys taking a bath, they HAD to take in two buckets of toys to play with, in the tub. Not that big of a deal, just one more mess. Then I discovered several hundred ants on my bathroom counter that weren't there earlier this morning, I run downstairs to grab the ant spray in the kitchen and set off upstairs to commit a mass murder of the little creatures. I wipe their corpses with a paper towel and bury them in the toilet (too graphic? I'll tame it down). An hour goes by uneventful, and I put Abby down for her first nap of the day. The boys were playing nicely together, so I jumped online to check email etc. Then I hear those stomach dropping words coming out of Preston's mouth, "Carson, did you just cut your hair?". Enter a few choice words here, as I run out of the office, to find Carson with chunks of hair missing. He had found Preston's missing Kindergarten safety scissors. Why is it always on my watch that this happens? And why is it always the very front of his head? And why is it always to the scalp? So, he leaves me no other option, but to shave him bald again! (If any of you missed the last buzzing, Preston took clippers to his little brothers head almost a year ago and gave him a reverse mohawk). On the plus side, Preston needed a haircut too, so dragging out the clippers and scissors wasn't a complete waste. Bath time round 2. Now my tub is filled with hair. Then there was lunch, which resulted in me making Mac and Cheese. Starting to pour the milk and suspicious orange powder in the noodles, I realize I'm out of butter. Quick phone call to Trevor to tell him he's not eating out with his brothers for lunch, but stopping by the grocery store on his break. Poor guy only had 10 minutes to eat by the time he got through the store and traffic. Meanwhile, Abby wakes up and I've neglected to pick up the family room per recent events and proceed to pull a penny, a Chuck-E-Cheese ticket and one unidentifiable object from her mouth over the course of the next half hour. Relief sets in, as she goes down for her second nap. I put the boys down with a movie in my room and start folding laundry downstairs, basking in my abilities to handle the crisis that is motherhood. Above me, there is loud banging, which I could only assume is the boys jumping on my bed and launching themselves off of it, Carson calls it "flying", I run upstairs to end their fun and return downstairs, oh, by the way, it's now 82 degrees in the house and every trip upstairs gives me a mild heart attack. I admit I'm WAY out of shape. They desist the jumping and I return to the laundry. Carson starts crying and I run upstairs again. They had stopped jumping off my bed and had started wrestling on it. They had bonked heads and each was trying to blame the other. I bring them downstairs, to clean up their earlier messes, while I start dinner. Spaghetti. Easy, fast, edible. Both boys are thirsty and help themselves to pint sized bottles of blue gatorade. Yep, I end up mopping up spilled blue gatorade. Abby's awake and is jonesing for food (did I mention the numerous bottles made and six diapers I've changed?). I put her off with those little finger food things and call Trevor to stop at the store again, on his way home, to pick up french bread (which I would happily bypass but Trevor has to have bread when he eats pasta...addicted to carbs much?) By the time he gets home, I have the boys fed and am just wiping the green beans off Abby's face and start his garlic bread. He dissapears to the office where he starts his second of three fantasy football drafts. I send the boys upstairs again as I eat and start watching the Mariner/Angel game. By this time, I'm tired and even more hot from making dinner, but my mood drastically shifts, as the Mariners have a 5-0 lead in the 1st inning. Trevor finishes his draft and joins me only to remember he forgot to turn on his Uncle's air conditioning. We've been watching their house, while they've been gone camping, and we were supposed to cool off the house, before they got home tonight. He leaves with Carson and returns shortly. He just sits down as they call to say they've gotten home and could he come over and help them unload a few heavy things. I ask that he help me put the kiddies to bed first and we journey upstairs to find every matchbox car the boys own, plus the earlier tub toys spread all over our room. Preston has also opened the treadmill mat that we've never used so bits of plastic is now littered across the floor. He claims that it was Carson, which is impossible and we wrangle a confession out of him and ground him from video games, not for the mess but for the lying. Bedtime is taking too long so Trevor leaves and assures me it'll be 10 minutes. I put Abby down, help finish picking up toys, brushed the boys teeth, sang two songs, turned on the hall light, went downstairs, returned to turn on the bathroom light, went downstairs, returned to bring "Cruisin' McQueen" to Carson, went downstairs, returned to kill a spider in the ceiling corner, which required a step stool and toy sword to reach, gave Preston the freshly-used-then-cleaned sword to snuggle (I don't get it either) and finally got downstairs for the last time where the Mariners had lost their lead. Meanwhile, Trevor had been gone 45 minutes. I'm starting to get SUPER grumpy, this is what happens when I'm hungry, tired, hot or losing to Trevor's team. Tonight, I'm three of the four. When this happens, I tend to try to become a martyr, so I start on the dinner dishes. I proceed to the table which is covered in several hundred ants feasting on what's left of Carson's dinner. I choose to ignore this, as the ant spray is still upstairs in my bathroom, and I know it'll kill me to exert my body anymore. I do, however, finish the rest of the dishes and bail on the Mariners who are now losing 6-10. Trevor comes home and receives the blunt of all the frustration, heat, ant infestation and frankly, his team is winning and I was just a little bitter at that moment. We finish the game which is just salt in the wound and I am now hiding in the office, wallowing in self pity in front of my computer. I admit this venting feels good but as I read over what I've just written I realize I'm acting like a big, irrational baby and wouldn't you know, it makes me even grumpier.

Carson two days ago. We'd been growing out his hair surfer dude style.
He wasn't amused that I was going to send this picture to Daddy to "tell on him".


The "after" shot.

*P.S. I had Trevor proof read this to make sure I wasn't too whiny (I totally was) and to apologize for my outburst at him earlier (if I admit I've been crazy, he's more apt to forgive me).

We're now laughing at my expense and I realize...I'll take this crazy, chaotic life any day of the week (I still could do without the stairs though).