Sometimes I'm so done.
I'm done with laundry and with dinner and with chasing kids to pry their mouths open so I can brush their teeth.
I'm done with stepping over toys and taking out the trash and hearing, "MOOOOMMMYYYY" ten million three hundred thirty thousand times a day.
I'm done with wiping butts, and stinky diapers, and smelly socks shoved under the couch.
I'm done with everything under the couch.
I'm done with vacuuming up goldfish crackers and I'm done with caring that the kids are eating in the living room.
I'm done with our ugly stained green carpet because the kids are eating in the living room.
I'm done with go fish, I'm done with slap jack
, I'm done with Dora. Yup. Done with Dora. I'm done with Backpack, and Map and Boots. Oh Boots. I'm so done with you.
I'm done with dirty hand prints on the toilet. And the wall.
I'm done with pee all over the toilet. And the floor. And even pee all over Little Miss when the boys don't shut the bathroom door and forget to flush.
I'm done with, "Can I have a popsicle?" and "Just one more, please please please please please."
I'm done with one more drink of water, one more show, and one more chance.
I'm done with "he hit me" and "quit looking at me" and the banshee like screams from the disgruntled three year old.
I'm done with Play-doh crumbs and grabbing little hands before they knock over their milk.
I'm done with being too late and cleaning up the spilled milk.
I'm done with putting the couch pillows back on the couch, even though I'm pretty sure I just did that two seconds ago.
Sometimes I'm just so done.
So I take a break. Vent a little bit. You know, to the keyboard, to my pillow, to my phone and any one who will listen.
And then I try to remember what I'm not done with.
I'm not done with hearing the Spam say, "You're so unbelievable," when I slap the Jack before him.
Or watching Little Miss splash and laugh in the bathtub when I'm washing off the pee. And hearing her say, "Oh maaaan," when I ask her what Swiper says.
Or JJ sneaking in one more hug and kiss when I bring him his fourth drink of water. Or maybe it's his sixth.
And I'm not done with watching magical moments like this unfold in our too tiny living room in our too tiny house.
There are a lot of things I'm not done with. And they all out weigh the stuff I am done with.
Thanks for letting me vent.
Time to go pick the pillows up again.