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Welcome to the Looney Bin

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Clumsy Crafter: Welcome to the Looney Bin

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Welcome to the Looney Bin

Sometimes I think that the hardest part of being a mom is giving more when you  feel  like you have nothing left.

For example:

You make a choice to do a quick Sunday night run to the grocery store with your teething toddler because you husband is home to watch the other two. So taking one grouchy kid to the store should be much easier than taking three possibly grouchy kids to the store the next day.

You literally sprint through the store, singing ABC's and all the Miss Patty Cake songs you can think of while all the single men stare at you like you're the latest escapee from the state mental ward. The teething toddler's pain medication wears off somewhere around the soup/ pasta aisle and she decided to start biting you, the cereal box, a random carrot, you again, and then back to whatever else she can get her chubby adorable little hands on. When that still doesn't soothe her sore gums, she starts to bite the handle of the grocery cart. This is first gross as all get out and second making you grab your hand away from the handle at lightening speeds to keep from being shark bait yet again. Finally when she has reached the end of her rope she decides to just bang her entire head as hard as she can on the handle of the cart.

All this is happening as you sing, dance, and act like a circus clown while you are so stinking tired that all you really want to do is push the 5 gallon buckets of lard to the side and curl up behind them for a little nap.

When you finally reach the checkout lane there is no guy to bag your groceries. So of course the guy in line behind you that only has a microwave dinner in his hands just stands there and looks at you while you balance a baby piranha, I mean toddler, on your hip and grab and bag as fast as you can. The buckets of sweat pouring from your head will probably be the cause of clean up on aisle 1.  The same guy walks out right behind you while you push your cart and balance the piranha on your hip still out to the car in the extreme heat, even though it is now dark outside. Gee, I wonder why he only had a microwave dinner for one?

So at this point you have to decide... drive home or straight to the mental hospital? either way you are returning to a bunch of loonies.



Anonymous Damion said...

Atleast the outstanding husband had the kids in the bath and the house cleaned, and a few loads of laundry done when you got home so you did not go totally insane.

August 16, 2010 at 7:35 AM  

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