That Day When All The Marbles Were Hard To Keep Together

Today, I woke up at 4:45 for no reason at all.

I just… WOKE UP.  And there was no going back to sleep.  I contemplated showering at that early hour and being a source of pride to farm women everywhere, who had already wrangled cows across pastures, gathered eggs and emptied the breakfast leftovers in the hog pens, but I knew such bravery of LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED was only going to wake Thing 2 up.

What we try to do at our house more than anything is tiptoe in socks and communicate with poor sign language skills instead of real words while the toddler is sleeping, because he can hear a ladybug sneeze in the neighbor’s backyard when he’s asleep, and then ALL THE SLEEP is done for him.

(Yes.  I have two entirely different sleepers.  The boy?  I’m worried that he’ll miss the return of Jesus while he’s sleeping, because he can literally sleep through blasting smoke alarms, his own bedside alarm, ringing phones, barking dogs, screaming little brothers, and the detonation of sixty thousand pounds of TNT next to his bed.  Thing 2 wakes up if someone twelve counties over makes a cup of coffee and opens his morning newspaper.)

After a crazy morning of me scrambling to do laundry, because the boy was selected at his high school golf practice last night to go with the varsity team to the far side of our good state for a tournament and he needed his golf shorts washed NOW, and Thing 2 literally peeling his tiny green undies off so that he could SQUAT ON MY HALLWAY FLOOR AND PEE A PUDDLE LARGER THAN EUROPE, and both cats screaming that THE DISH IS EMPTY AND WE MAY CUT OUT YOUR LIVERS IF THINGS ARE NOT REMEDIED IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE WE NEED THE MEOW MIX, I finally managed to get the boy to golf practice, pack his bag for three days away from home, take him through the long registration line at the high school with all the juniors (because now he’s going to miss the freshman’s turn to register later this week, while he’s off smacking golf balls), feed the boy the most unhealthy cheeseburger off a cheap dollar menu on the planet, and get him back to the high school to board a bus.

I felt like I needed some kind of blue ribbon pinned to my shirt for all that I managed to get done today, but then I remembered that I’m a mother, and we don’t actually get blue ribbons for anything we accomplish at home.

Which is probably why our fish tank looks like Shrek’s swamp at the moment.  I can clean it, but no one will cheer for me… or even notice… and so it sits, looking like something out of PONDS GONE WILD.

Anyway.

When I got home and finally breathed in and out slowly and realized that I’m an adult, and I really DO NOT have to fold the three laundry baskets of clean clothes that I washed today, all in the name of GETTING THE BEST GOLF KHAKIS CLEAN FOR THE TOURNEY that are currently sitting on my dining room table, my day kind of calmed down.

And that’s when I pulled up this little article written by Jen Hatmaker (CLICK RIGHT HERE!) on heading back to school, and listen… It’s a gem!  And in lieu of me actually writing anything worthwhile tonight, I’m just going to let you read Jen’s words, while I skip off to a very grown-up dinner with Hubs and two other fun, FUN couples.

I feel like I earned a fun dinner out tonight with friends, because HOW DO YOU CLEAN UP PEE ON THE HARDWOOD FLOOR THAT’S SPREADING FASTER THAN GOSSIP WHEN YOU’RE OUT OF PAPER TOWELS?!?!

Happy Wednesday, y’all.  Happy, happy Wednesday.

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