How to be a Hot Mess

Now that I am a seasoned mother of two, I can assure you I qualify as a “hot mess”.  I thought chasing after one child was a handful, sprinkle in a second and wooooweeee have we got ourselves a hot mess over here.

Step 1: Be a mother. The end.  Just kidding…kind of.  Being a mom totally qualifies you as a hot mess.  Most of the time I look at the clock and can’t figure out where my entire day has gone.  Granted I work part time and chase two kids, but being a mother seriously is messy.  I took the kids to the park a couple days ago.  Chasing after two kids at the park is like herding cats into a bathtub of water.  (Note: I have never herded cats or tried to give them baths, but I assume it is a shit show) The baby somehow got sunscreen in his eyes even though I slathered his little, glow in the dark, white body with it before we even left for the park.  He must have been sitting in his car seat licking his arms and then smearing the slobbery, sunscreeny mess all over his face.  I spent a good portion of the 90 minutes we were at the park wiping snot and tears off of his face and convincing people he wasn’t a leper, just all irritated from his sunscreen.   Sass refused to get out of the sandbox, so she had that dirty park sand caked in random places that will only become clean once I run her through the car wash.  When it was time to leave she had the most dramatic reaction because she wasted 87/90 minutes parked in the sandbox instead of running off her energy like I had hoped.  All I got from the park visit was snot in my hair, gross sand all over my car, and pit stains on my tee shirt from chasing after the baby who kept trying to climb up the slides.  Hot mess.

Step 2: Pepper in some pets.  We have two pugs.  One was a package deal with me when I met my hunk of a hub, the other we obtained after we got married.  I love our pugs, but they stink and don’t listen and get dog hair all over my house.  They run out the front door and garage every chance they get.  The older one doesn’t venture far because she knows she has to come back, but they can be almost as exhausting as the kids.  Trying to get the baby to sleep an extended period of time is torture for me.  (I am typing this furiously fast as he naps). Anyways, pugs.  The pugs have a vendetta for me.  They bark at anything and everything.  The older one is senile, I think.  She is pushing 10,  she even barks at the air conditioner when it turns on, but the younger one barks at cartoon animals on the television and NatGeo so any type of animal show is out of the question. Sorry Paw Patrol and Secret Life of Pets, you’re out.  So afternoon naps are hard to come by, especially when someone knocks on the door and the dogs lose their minds and wake the baby.  Frickin pugs.

Step 3: Lack of sleep.  My son sucks at sleeping.  As previous noted, extended sleep is hard to come by.  I rock a pretty constant purple/blue bag under each of my eyes and can almost always be found with a cup of cold coffee in hand. I have gone so long drinking cold coffee because I let my hot cup sit for too long, that I can’t even tolerate hot coffee anymore.  Even my coffee is a hot (cold) mess.  I fall asleep at the most inopportune times; during movies, during shows, while putting the kids to bed, rocking the baby in the rocking chair….I consider two wake ups a night from him a “good night” and I have a hard time sleeping more than 6 hours because I am so used to a lack of sleep that I feel hungover the next day if I sleep for more.  Sleep, I miss you.

Step 4: Work from home.  As I type this, I am still in my pajamas at 1pm.  Granted I ate two meals  today and brushed my teeth after lunch, but most days I look pretty similar to what I did when my husband left for work at 6am, starving and can’t remember if I brushed my teeth or when I last took a shower.  Anyways, I can answer the phone and emails and nobody knows I have bedhead and coffee breath.  It’s great but I look like a college student and/or Frank Gallagher from Shameless most days.  Hot mess.

Step 5: Be late to every social function you attend.  We are late, to almost everything. Always.  Sass can’t find her shoes, the baby takes a big steamer as we are walking out the door, I forgot my wallet, I can’t find my shoes, where are the baby wipes, we need snacks, forgot the blankie, need the iPad for an extended drive.  We have to tell ourselves that something starts 15 minutes prior to the actual start time just so we can get out the door on time.  Going places as a family is a hot mess.

Step 6: Messy House I have given up on cleaning up.  Honestly this was a good move on my part because it has made me much less neurotic during the day.  I try to do the dishes and clean up toys after dinner right before bath time instead of throughout the day.  It was like chasing a tornado.  The mess just moved from room to room.  It was exhausting.  I do a swift cleanup before G man gets home from work, but often times he is stepping over cars and ponies in the kitchen.  I found a toy sheep in the crock pot and a teething ring in the pots and pans yesterday.  I am not sure if I put those there or one of the kids.

Steps 7-10: Forget.  I forget what I was going to write for these steps.

Here’s to you hot mess of a mommy, cheers!

Note: most likely typos and grammatical errors as I can’t seem to find my reading glasses so I feel blind.  mess

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