Anyway

I definitely want some people to take care of me when I am old but for sure, I had no idea the cost. 

My children bring the psychological warfare. 

6:15am. Bedroom doors opens KABLAM

Dear daughter ‘Momma! Wake up it’s time for SCHOOL, you didn’t wake up come onnnnnn!’ Due to a short week I guess her internal calendar and me telling her yesterday that today was Saturday was off. 

6:18am. Chanting rains down from upstairs, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. Mommy, Mommy.” There are two of them now jumping up and down in dear son's crib (yes he is still in a crib it’s great). 

And, they are naked. 

An incredible feat that those same children who take 37 minutes to put on enough clothes to go outside can get naked in less than 5 seconds. I haven’t even peed yet but I have fed the dog. 

I go to pee, when I hear ‘Mommy I have to go to the bathroom so bad!!!!’ Yes dear daughter got out of the crib and into the bathroom just as I sat down there. Perhaps she’ll excel at hurdles in high school… 

Dear son's turn, ‘Mommy!!! I need my black car. No not that one the other black car!!!!’ 

6:29am. Head downstairs, Chocolate croissants… YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY. Dear duaghter, ‘which one is the biggest one. That’s the one I want.’ 

Dear son to his ‘poisan’, smash, smash, smash, smash. Yum. 

Add in countless, ‘he hit mes’, growls, snatches, screams, and complaints about genitals to the complete inability to listen or clean up anything and that pretty much sums up my day. 

Rant over.