It was grocery shopping day today. With the kids.
Let that sink in for a minute.
With. The. Kids.
One who is strung out on steroids and the other who is trying to keep pace with the behavior of the other child.
Just. Shoot. Me.
A chore which would usually take me 45 minutes tops instead took almost two hours. I am not kidding. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stomp my feet. Now my "go to" on days like this is to pick up speed and just get it over with. The kids "go to"? Drag your feet, whine, pick up every blessed thing you see and beg for it. Whine and cry when your sister gets to use her birthday money to pick out a gift. Scream at the top of your lungs when your brother "accidentally" bumps the cart into you. Do everything wrong you could possibly think of that takes your mom to the edge of all things sane and then....just for fun....push her.
I would have sold my soul to be doing motorhome repair work with another grown up than shopping with my two lovely children.
Then there was unloading the car and helping to put things away. Sure, it would have been waaaaaay easier to do it by myself but that isn't sticking with my "teaching them to take more responsibility" theme. So, I took a deep breath and tried not to smack them when they started in with "Why do *I* hafta?!?!" "It's not MY house to take care of - it's YOURS!" "I'm not carrying that." "MOM! I think I brought the light bulb you just bought."
Is it too early to spike my coffee?
Where, you ask, are my two miracles right now? Happily eating chicken nuggets and watching TV. Hey - at least they are finally quiet. :)