Don’t try this at home

I passed supermom mode one bar of chocolate ago and am now in a fuzzy, confusing place. This day started way too early ago with my second little darling starting school. Let’s just say my blue-eyed challenging humdinger of a baby has made it out into the real world. To say that he inherited his mommy’s spirited streak does neither of us justice but it is safe to say that around this day, some five years ago he looked into my eyes on his arrival (trust me, this kid could see), and I knew it was going to be an interesting journey, to say the least.

So at nine am, I left him at the classroom and with him my heart for he for all his wildness is the funniest most lovable rogue that a mommy ever had the pleasure to know. He was happy, I was happy-ish. Arriving home, I was intent on making the day perfect (eeek) and started into baking the first-day-at-school-cake while trying to give our third son a bit more attention given that he was now the centre of all my attention. So the cake, think jam and jelly and cream and fruit squashed between two sponge layers. Delicious. But no, why stop there. My eldest was starting into a new class too, why his favorite, he would have to have meatballs. And the third little boy could help. Sigh.

And then I would fold the washing with the third. Then we would play and read stories and chat and have tea and call Daddy for lunch. Dizzy yet? Then we would collect our newest school go-er and chat about his day at school. And then, we would try and fit in another number of jobs and then we would collect Primo. And then we would cook the meatballs. And have a first day at school party with the cake. By now, believe me, we’re tired. And then, we would go to bed for pity sake. We would read. We would eventually fall to sleep. And then, yours truly would go and get organized for the next day. Nope, not over yet.

As the craziness continued, I felt it most necessary to take out the agricultural notes I had spent all summer avoiding and of all nights begin revising them tonight. Tonight. So as I sit here writing a blog post (why not), I am up to my oxters in diagrams on the external features of a Beef animal (I would say a cow), feeling like a bit of a rag. Someone show me the way to go home. We do it though. We go too far. And don’t we know it. And don’t we have to reel it back in. Wherever you are out there, mind yourselves and for God’s sake, don’t be stuck if you need to know what end of beef animal (aka cow) you’re looking at. Sleep tight.

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