My darling daughter, Hailey aka Twin A, dragged her straw out of her milk cup and spit milk across the kitchen floor. Whether by accident or on purpose (I never can tell with two yr olds) I grudgingly retrieved the mop from the hallway and let it glide across the floor to erase the evidence of her mealtime creativity. It is one of those days, and I couldnt care less about milk splatters across the floor, fingerprints on the walls, dvds scattered to the four corners of the livingroom. My head is pounding, my eyes are sore, and my throat is scratchy. I've been fighting this awful cold for over a week now, possibly a new record for me as far as illnesses go, and it has officially won. All I want to do is go back to bed and sleep until it leaves my system. "Mommy I want animal crackers!" Hannah (Twin B) yells, as she throws the remainder of her jam sandwich on the floor. Obviously sleep is not a current possibility.
To make my day THAT much more of a disappointment, I spent two days even while being ill, drawing up a logo that my dad requested for his golf team. Today I get a reply email for my efforts saying its too complicated for the intended purpose, and to shelf the idea. So now, I get an ego blow to go with my nose blowing. How perfect. It is however, a good reminder as to why I dont do anything artistic for a living. Rejection of something one puts so much effort into is quite discouraging.
So even amongst the sneezing and coughing, achey head, and rejection, I stoop to pick up the discarded jam sandwich, and open up the animal cookies for the demanding trio of youngsters in front of me. This is my motherhood reality. It is the one that hits me when I realize that no matter how crappy, physically or mentally, I might feel, those little mess makers are above it all. Thankfully after all this time, as a defense mechanizsm, taking care of them has become almost as natural as breathing. Sure I am looking forward to the day that throwing food isnt the way they signal they're done with a meal (I have hope, my 5yr old has moved passed it!) As a mom, however, it is a small comfort to know that their needs move me beyond a sick unsuccessful artist, and that will get me through the day!
