Just another Manic Monday

Serious.  Today was literally a day from h-e-double hockey sticks.  UGHHH!

The boys woke up at 6am.  Rise and shine!  "I'm HUNGRY!"  "My belly is growling!"  "I want to go downstaaaaiiiiirs!!

Took them downstairs to put on a movie so I could attempt to fall back asleep on the couch. Not going to happen.  The boys were whining and fighting and crabby and being ridiculous.

I turned the tv off and sent them both back to bed.  I headed back to my own comfy bed as well.

I must have been super tired because I didn't wake up until 11am.  Did I mention I woke to the sound of things being thrown down the stairs?

I asked Porter what they were doing... and if they'd made a mess... and if I was going to be mad when I got downstairs.

He told me yes.  Well, can't say I wasn't warned.

And then he tells me "I made the dining room an ice rink with whipped cream and I was sliding on it!"

Frick.  FrickFrickFrickFrick.

Okay people... now, if you've been a loyal blog reader for awhile now you know that I'm pretty well seasoned when it comes to my kids (mainly Porter in the past) making messes.  And they're usually random, chaotic, what-the-hell messes (like hoarding an entire cake from the fridge, or demolishing my makeup, or shutting down the power in the ice ring, or flooding the bathroom and playing in tile grout powder, or eating an entire package of ice cream sandwiches). You get it... I'm used to this type of stuff.

But... as I slowly and cautiously made my way downstairs I was speechless at the mess that I found.

Hudson standing on my newly upholstered dining room chairs with paint from head to toe... including on my chair cushion.

Shaving cream (which was in the art cabinet) and whipped cream (from the fridge) EVERYWHERE.  A smeared layer covering the floor.  Splattered all over the buffet.  On the table, the table runner, the table legs and all of the dining room chairs.

Water.  Everywhere.  The art tub dumped out and sitting with an inch of water.  Puddles of cream and water on the floor.

The contents of the art cabinet (which is half of our buffet cabinet in the dining room) emptied onto the floor... markers and tissue paper and pipe cleaners and construction paper....  all of this soaked on the dining room floor.

A box of nails from the garage sitting on the table with a rubber mallet nearby.

Three boards from the garage... one covered in shaving cream... one covered in paint.  "Mom!  We painted a picture for you on that board!"

I couldn't even muster the ability to take pictures. I was that ticked.  I could not believe my eyes.

And, despite not taking my Nice-Mommy-Meds for a number of days, I managed NOT to scream or yell or call names or swear.  I calmly made Porter help me clean up the demolition that was my dining room.

Oh, this isn't all of it.

After the majority of the mess was cleaned up I sent the boys up to their rooms so I could mop the dining room floor and attempt to get the shaving cream out of the grooves of the hardwood floor.

I finished up in the dining room and then made my way into the bathroom.... soaked towels on the floor.... paint handprints on the sink and faucet.  In the living room... baskets of laundry had been dumped out.  A box of fruit snacks on the table... now empty.

I headed upstairs to get the boys dressed so we could run to school to pick up fruit I'd bought from Boy Scouts.  Porter waltzes out of the bathroom and announces "Mom, now I don't need to have my hair trimmed!  I did it myself!"

AUGHHHHHHH!  He had hacked the front of his hair off.  UGHHHH.  Seriously?  SERIOUSLY?  On top of the chaos downstairs he hacks off his hair???

I load the kids in the van and drive to work.  They fall asleep so I leave them in the van.  After picking up the fruit I called in an order to Panera and ran in to pick that up.  While the boys continued to sleep, I ate a yummy Smokehouse Turkey Panini in the car.  Then... off to The Barber Shop to see if Papa could fix Porter's hair.  Thank goodness he was able to somewhat salvage it.

I took the boys to the Dollar Tree to let Porter pick out gifts for family members.  At school we did a Santa Shop and it was all Dollar Store items and kids bought stuff for their family members.  At first I thought it was stupid but then I realized the kids really felt good about buying their loved ones gifts.  So, I let Porter pick out gifts for family members (So, just a forewarning... when you open Porter's gift, know that it is from HIM... I attempted to guide him toward items that were "suitable" LOL!).

Anyhow... then we ran to the post office where Porter shoved a piece of chocolate in his mouth while we were chatting with the lady in line in front of us.  Did I mention I hadn't given him a piece of chocolate?  And that he confessed in front of her that it came from the Dollar Store.... uhm... we didn't buy any chocolate from the Dollar Store.  And THEN the boys continue to fight over who is standing next to me in line... pushing each other and poking at each other.  And THEN Porter says, out of the friggin blue "I'm going to kill myself."

At that point I just totally ignored them.  I had nothign else to say.  Here I was, no shower, no makeup... looking like a scum bag and my kid is eating random chocolate from who knows where, they're pushing each other around and then saying I WANT TO KILL MYSELF?

All I have to say is it has been a day.  Day 1 of Christmas break... off to a greeeaaaat start.