NOTE:  You may want read this when you're settled in with a glass of alcohol.  It's is a long one.  

If you're following me on Instagram, maybe you've already seen my stories about my day from parental hell yesterday.  I basically stayed MIA the entire day because I think if I had gone on and started talking about it, I would have just cried.  Part of me wondered if I should have.  I felt SO. ALONE. yesterday.  Last night when I was finally feeling a little better (and a little hopeful) I opened up a bit about it and the response has been overwhelming- texts and messages from beautiful, thoughtful friends and people who just wanted to say that they hoped today was better (or share stories about their own mental breakdowns LOL).  So if you're in the same boat as I was yesterday, or if this could potentially make you feel even an OUNCE better, that'll be good enough.  Cause sometimes this shit just plain sucks and you need to know you're not alone - just like I did.  

I already knew when I went to bed a couple of nights ago that it was going to be a tough one.  I had taken Bree for her 12 month vaccinations (this was the day before yesterday) and she was missserrrrabbblleeee.  We did the Tylenol/Advil thing, but honestly, I was warned that those were bad ones and the pain relief wasn't really doing a ton.  Bree was so irritated throughout the night- she woke up multiple times, and just couldn't fully settle to go to sleep.  Long story short, I got home from a late baseball game (that was my decision to go, so you don't have to feel bad about that part lol) and it was 3:30am by the time I actually got to sleep.  

It might not have been as bad (we all have hard nights with kids, that comes with the territory- they're hard, but survivable) but we had to be up early AF the next morning to go to my mom and dad's, because my truck needed to be fixed- the dealership happens to be very close to where they live now so they offered to pick up my truck from my parents' house so that I could bring the kids there and stay, since the repairs were going to take quite a few hours to complete.  That part was great and I was really appreciative for that.  It did make for a chaotic morning, only because everyone was already tired.  I tried to let them sleep for as long as I could but I was waking both kids up 10 mins before we had to be out the door and they were naaaat happy about it (um, excuse me children, but neither was I!). 

Anyway - we rush out the door, zoom to my parents' house, unpack everything I had gotten together the night before since I knew we'd be there for awhile (so basically everything but the kitchen sink), they came and got my truck and it was all good.  I was trying to get everything inside and get the kids the breakfast they were grumpy for (all while feeling guilty I had made them wait for it in the first place).  And this is where it starts.  That night/morning basically set up the perfect storm.  

Throughout the rest of the day, it was one thing after another.  Nobody wanted the fruit I had brought for breakfast, which is so unusual for them - I knew I was in for a doozy already because they were tired.  Also, don't judge me on this, but my parenting style is like.. this is what I brought so this is what you're eating, too f***ing bad.  So it was a fight to eat the banana and strawberries (like seriously, you'd think I was feeding them garbage JUST EAT THE BANANA). Tantrums were thrown.   Move on from breakfast, and child #1 poops.  I didn't notice right away that said poop was coming out of the side of the diaper because I was cleaning up the banana on the floor (grrrrrr).   Since my daughter scoots on her butt instead of crawls, the escaping poop was leaving a long line of smear marks behind her.  Okayyyyyy breathe- not baby's fault.  Change diaper, clean up smeared floor poop.  Meanwhile, my sweet child #2 who has been doing SO WELL in the potty training category lately, is quietly pissing his pants.  SIGHHHH.  Accidents happen.  Change his shorts and underwear, clean up the giant puddle on the ground, show him again where the potty is, and remind him that's where he needs to go.  

Okay, I thought, that was annoying but it's over with.  Got my laptop out so that I could try to get payroll done.  Lasted for a solid 7 minutes before Bree was crying.  They had their toys out, they had snacks, they had Netflix (yes I'm a screen time mom- sorry not sorry), so I thought, come onnnnn.  But the crying didn't stop.  I knew she was cranky from the shitty night we had - so an earlier nap time it would be.  THIS IS WHEN ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.  Jase was running around talking a mile a minute that he wanted the combine down from the shelf, he wanted goldfish, he wanted to play outside, he wanted Paw Patrol and Bree was LOSING HER MIND while I warmed up some milk for her.  Breathe breathe breathe.  I couldn't help but be a little bit snappy at this point (which I hate and am not proud of, but I'm only human) and sent Jase outside with a combine to play on the deck so that I could at least just deal with Bree until she was asleep.  The next 20 minutes consisted of me running between checking on Jase on the deck and my parents' room to keep laying Bree back down to get her to fall asleep (all while she was screaming at the top of her lungs).  I tried to have patience because at home, she's so used to her crib, I can lay her in it for a nap and she'll go to sleep on her own- but this was a different place with a different bed and she was not having it.  I thought okay, this isn't working.  Back to playing and she can tire herself out a little more.  

Brought her back out into the living room and set her down (still crying) and went outside to tell Jase to come back inside for awhile.  Opened the door up to the deck - and guess what I see??? Yeah.  He had pooped and peed all over the deck.  Big clumps of shit, right on the deck.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME.  At this point I need you to just trust me when I say he knows better than that.  He KNOWS at this point that he's supposed to go to the toilet.  I ran and got wipes to clean him off (down his legs, on his feet... ugggghhhh) and didn't see a hose so I ran back in to get stuff to clean it up.  By this point, both kids are inside, and I'm on the deck, going between water, paper towel, and an old pen I was using to pick out shit from between the cracks of the deck.  Guys- you literally can't make this up (and don't worry Mom and Dad, I threw the pen out).  Go back inside after cleaning that up, to see Jase two-hand push Bree to the ground.  She hit her face, and ended up with a bloody mouth.  

I felt like I was in a movie.  Like how was this possibly real life.  Sweat was pouring off of me.  Who's kids were these??  SERIOUSLY???  I felt so defeated in that moment.  I put so much time and effort (like we all do) into disciplining them, into trying to raise them right - and in one morning, they can act like that and make you feel like you are completely and totally failing.  Cleaned up the bloody mouth and calmed the poor girl down.  I knew she needed sleep so I started on lunch - which actually went okay.  Everyone ate what I put in front of them.  I saw a glimmer of hope that maybe it would start to turn around.  It did not.  I tried again to put Bree down after lunch and she screamed... and screamed... and screamed.  I hit it.  I was at my breaking point.  I called Kev and cried as she screamed in the background.  I couldn't do it anymore.  I was so sure that I was going to be cut out for this - but I wasn't.  I failed them, I failed him, I failed me- I didn't try hard enough, I was out of patience, I was exhausted.  Poor guy had no idea what to say.  I was just done.  I hung up the phone and sobbing, kept trying to get my baby girl to sleep.  Finally... FINALLY, she started to give it up.  She fell asleep, I tucked her in, walked out of the room and man oh man, did I cry.  

After a good, UGLY cry, you get to that point where you're like okay... that was awful... but you have to pull it together.  I just needed to be alone for a bit.  I wanted to go for a walk, but obviously couldn't because I was the only one there.  I ended up throwing on some headphones and running shoes and going on the treadmill my parents have.  I'm not one to depend on fitness to get me through stuff but I just needed to calm the f down.  By some miracle, and unbeknownst to me, my brother and his girlfriend showed up.  It's like someone knew I just needed relief.  Someone else to entertain the kids for a bit, because it was mid afternoon at that point and I got the call that my truck was going to be dropped off shortly.  Just for a little icing on the cake, my brother took the dog outside and discovered a few more clumps left from Jase elsewhere on the deck that I hadn't noticed before, that had hardened in the hot sun (AND THAT SMELL THOUGH) and needed to be cleaned up.  We laughed and laughed.  I couldn't stop laughing at that point.  I had it written all over my face what kind of day I had.  

I'll tell ya. This parenting thing is the hardest thing I've ever done.  Even sitting here typing this is hard.  It's hard to open up to other people (let alone the internet) about those super trying moments.  The best, and scariest, part about this blog is that I get to share stuff like this with you - with a lot of hope that it will help that frustrated mom, or that exhausted dad, feel a little more normal and a little less alone.  I'm just doing my best - I don't know if I'm doing it right.  It isn't perfect.  That's also why I picked a no-makeup, tired selfie for the picture on this post.  Because this is real... and it isn't always pretty.

 I said on Instagram last night that at the end of those days, when all is quiet again, a little perspective always helps.  I'm only human.  I love my kids more than anything in the world, that's a given.  It was a hard day and I feel like we all have a right to our bad days.  But there are a lot of parents and people in the world that have it a lot harder than I did yesterday.  Tomorrow is always a new opportunity to try again.  All you can do is wake up the next day, pull yourself together, and hope that it goes better.  So hang in there, and push a little bit harder.  Depend on the people around you.  Listen to them when they say they know what you're going through.  

Also, whiskey (or beer, or wine.. whatever you prefer) helps a lot. Just saying.