Break It Down!

I'm not gonna lie: last night was baaaad. To begin with, I felt like I had swallowed razor blades, and my head was so packed that it rendered my nostrils useless, so I went around mouth-breathing all day. (Thank God I couldn't smell my own breath, as I'm sure it was heinous.) The kids were sick too, but just enough to make them irritable - not to slow them down. Their usual antics continued against an amped-up backdrop of cranky whininess, and by the end of the day I was seriously running out of steam. Here's a rundown of the events that caused me to totally lose it for a few minutes:

-While the kids play in the bathtub, I run to grab a Kleenex for my snotty nose. Upon trying to dispose of said Kleenex, I realize that the trash can is nearly overflowing, so I quickly bag it up - and return to about a half-inch of soapy water covering the bathroom floor, and two drenched, innocent-looking little boys staring at me.

-I shout a desperate, "What have you done?" which startles Cameron and makes him cry. Can't find a clean towel to sop up the watery mess; remember that there's a used one stuffed into the toy box (?). When I come back, Colin is crying too. Great.

-Cameron follows me into the living room to get the towel, bawling louder than ever, dripping sudsy water all over the place, and squats ... to pee on the floor. With horror, I realize that I'm out of paper towels.

-I sit on the couch and cry, too.

I couldn't help it. It was one of those times when you just feel completely overwhelmed and do not feel like dealing with anything that's in front of you ... y'know? And then there's the horrible domino-effect realization: oh my Lord, I'll have a newborn to add to the mix in a mere three and a half months. Oh shit, if I can't even handle two, how am I ever going to handle three? Should I start saving now for my kids' therapy? Needless to say, I was reduced to blubbering nothingness for a good two or three minutes.

Anyway, I'm in a better place mentally, but not feeling much better physically today. The only thing is that the cold has moved its way down into my chest, so I'm horking up some disgusting sludge (the first of which made its appearance at breakfast, causing Curtis to nearly hork up something of his own. Hey, I couldn't help it!).

But since motherhood doesn't stop when you're ill, I had to oblige the boys in their normal morning playtime. I told Colin that his room was a hotel, and that I was a guest who would be lying down. Then I closed his bedroom door. The kids were contained in a safe area, with me less than a few feet from them, I was resting in bed, and Colin was thrilled that I was "playing" in his room - ah, the cleverness. It was awesome until Cameron wiped his runny nose along the bottom of my bare foot (which is an indescribably gross feeling) and then found his brother's cup of water from last night, dumping most of it down my front before I could get it away from him.

Good times.