I thought I was a *STAY AT HOME* mom?

Good evening, friends and haters!
Wow! Today was a cluster *&%^! I feel like I was running nonstop all day. I woke up late this morning, and left the house looking like a hot mess. Whatever. It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last. After I got up and got ready, I had to get the kid ready. Oh. My. Lanta. I dread this with every bone in my body...every. single. day.

We have a little routine in the mornings. I get up and get in the shower. Then, I wake up the husband. Then, I get ready, and summon the husband to wake the sleeping beast. He's not a normal dad who goes in a rubs your head and scratches your back and whispers to the littles to wake up. Ohhhh no...he barges into their room like a crazed gorilla, guns blazing, flicks the lights off and on a million times, yanks the covers off, and is SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. "GOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOORNING! WAKE UP YOU LITTLE BRATS! TIME TO GET UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! I SAID GET OUT OF BED! LET'S GO!" Then, get this...oh, this just chaps my ass every morning...

THAT JERK LEAVES ME! He leaves me...all alone...all alone with a 4 year old that is pissed off at the world and is probably plotting my death. Now, I have to attempt to get this viscous savage animal that is on the verge of stabbing me in the carotid artery with a crayola fully clothed.

Do you want jeans or shorts?
Jeans.
Okay. I can handle this. (I go get the jeans.)
Do you want a cowboy shirt or t-shirt?
Cowboy shirt.
SHIT. Okay.

So then, I bring out 5 different shirts before I am finally so incredibly irate and sick of his whiny little attitude that I end up MAKING him wear the first shirt that I brought out. Now we are friends off for the rest of the morning...his choice, not mine. He takes 45 minutes to put on jeans, a cowboy shirt, socks, and boots. Usually by the second spanking, he finishes getting dressed. He finishes, but now he is even MORE pissed than he was before. Great. Can't wait for this awkward car ride to daycare when you're giving me the evil glare in the rear view mirror for 20 minutes. AGH!

So anyways, we get ready to leave and I realized that the husband left the chocolate chip banana bread muffins that I made for his crew on the counter. DUDE! WTH! I don't have time or patience for this today, fool! Well, I already made them. They are amazing (um, of course) and I don't want to send day old muffins to the guys that work for the husband. What kind of stay at home mom sends day old muffins? Come on, man. Alright, I have the little grab the muffins and head to the Jeep.

Its pouring down rain, of course. Is this really how my whole day is going to go?! I fight my way through traffic like I'm trying to qualify for the Indy 500. I make it to the refinery where the husband works, pull a Peyton Manning and complete the pass on a 2 yard throw. Spinning my tires pulling out, I finish driving the rest of the way across town. Then, I had to get the kid to daycare, which was a lot easier than it is on most days. No fit...woohoo! After that, it became urgent that I stop and get coffee, because there was no way in hell I was going to make it through a three hour lecture on the specific functions of the immune system after all the shit I put up with this morning. After standing in line at the gas station for 6 hours and 29 minutes waiting for the 14 people paying with friggin' pennies (that might be a small exaggeration of the events at the gas station), I managed to make it to class with exactly 18 seconds to spare before the lecture started. BOOM! Made that morning my bitch!

Class was shockingly painless. Then I got a call from the husband saying he forgot the bowl to heat up his lunch in. You have GOT to be kidding me right now!!!! GAHHH!!!! OK...I jump in the car and haul booty BACK across town. I ended up having JUST enough time to make him a delicious sandwich to send with his lunch (oh, and *BTW*, by the FRIGGIN' way, he ended up not even NEEDING the bowl that I was sent on this high profile mission for in the FIRST place). So, I take the bowl, the sandwich, and my not so beautiful looking self BACK across town to him. He tells me his back is messed up and is hurting him bad and he needs to see a doctor. Faaaan-friggin-tastic.

I go get the kid, hustle home, and get on the phone. I called 73,591 doctors. I settle for a chiropractor. Phew. Hopefully this helps.

I feed the little lunch and lay him down for a nap (which was SOOOOO needed). Then, I get the veggies prepared for supper. I studied for two hours and then the little woke up. Ever tried to study with a little around? Yeah, well I have. Its physically and emotionally impossible. Physically because he is trying to wrestle or needs milk or needs food or needs me to transform this impossible yellow car into a robot or he needs this or this or this or this or this. Emotionally because if I do start to get even the most insignificant amount of studying done, I end up crying out of frustration because I can't focus beyond the first sentence of my notes. So after the little woke up, I took him outside to ride his bike. That lasted all of 10 minutes. After that painful example of "how not to ride a bike without training wheels", I came inside to start getting supper ready and I stuck the little in the tub.

I get a phone call from the husband...

"Hey, I need you to grab my gear bag and meet me at the college at 5:30. I have to fight bulls tonight."

Dude, I love you, but right now...you are pushing the limits and capabilities of my love. For serious. I received this phone call at 4:55.

I get the kid OUT of the tub, fight with him for the SECOND time today about getting dressed, put away ALL of the supper stuff, get him loaded IN the car along with the gear bag, haul ass BACK across town fighting the Cheyenne rush hour and all of its infinite idiots, and make it to the college at 5:31. BOOM!

The little and I watch the hubs fight a few bulls, then we leave. I made the little ride with the husband, because mommy was about to lose her *&%$. The hubs had to go to his union hall, so I hauled ass (yeah, I do a lot of this, I know...) BACK home to get supper ready for when they got home. Ribeyes, baked potatoes, and baked garlic vegetable medley. Paula Dean? Who's that? Martha who?

Good grief. I thought this "stay at home mom" thing would be sweet. I thought I could just lay around in my sweats, not have to wear make-up or do my hair...HA. Boy, was I naive or what?! To all the fellow "stay at home moms"...you just won every ounce of respect in my body. Wow. Today was outrageous.

I'm soooo going to bed. Good night, loves!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife