But only if it's the last straw in one of those days where I kept asking myself: "Where has this day gone? And why can't I accomplish anything, except walk around in the ten foot path between the kitchen table and sink?"
These are the days I find myself discouraged, sure there is no escape from "measuring out my life with coffee spoons."*
These are the days when I'm always tempted to write down what I actually have accomplished, but I'm never sure if it will make me feel better, or just more defeated.
I never follow through, and I wonder if one day, when I get beyond the spilled milk stage, I'll even trust my memory of such days. So, for today, here are the things I did before I did indeed cry over a puddle of spilled milk:
Morning routine for all three kids and me.
Take biggest boy to bus stop.
Make sure wig for "W" show and tell is in girly's backpack.
Pack snack for smallest boy since he will be accompanying me to volunteer in biggest boy's class. Choose snack that will not get ground to crumbs on said classroom floor.
Take girly to preschool.
Drive back home to get stroller to contain small boy.
Text other parent volunteer to make sure there is still work to be done in classroom, since I am now late.
Help first graders decorate pumpkins with glitter and glue.
Check lost and found for coat biggest boy left at Tae Kwon Do.
Have prickly conversation with school secretary about lost and found, wherein I feel compelled to remind her that I am not the first grader, but decide this should be self-evident.
Grocery shopping, during which baby boy fills his pants with what seems like at least a week's worth of poop.
Forgo planned flu shot in favor of changing diaper in grocery store parking lot.
Consider throwing away pants and onesie along with diaper and wipes.
Cost/benefit analysis of finding clean pants for smallest boy or putting away frozen items in four minutes I have before becoming late to get girly at school.
Take pantless boy into preschool pickup.
Lift dog's useless hind end up so she can get out from under the high chair.
Look at baskets of laundry to be put away.
Read books to girly.
Supervise glitter gluing.
Chase toddler out of bathrooms and bedrooms. Gather contents of assorted drawers from assorted rooms in house scattered on floor and return them to rightful places. Close doors. Cost/benefit analysis of finding alternative homes for items in fast dwindling high shelf space or replacing broken child safety latches. Chase toddler out of bathrooms and bedrooms. Ask preschooler to keep doors closed. Gather contents of assorted drawers. Close doors. Repeat on infinite loop.
Get biggest boy off bus.
Admire new Pokemon cards.
Break up five arguments and wrestling matches.
Redirect toddler away from Pokemon cards.
Troubleshoot inoperable Wii via text message and google search.
Search family room, living room and kitchen for television remote. Retrieve from laundry room floor.
Parcel out half bag of candy corn piece by piece to screaming/pointing toddler.
Brainstorm potential solutions to "toddler standing up in high chair, built in buckle useless" problem.
Set off smoke alarm twice while heating pan for french toast. Turn on exhaust fan. Let dog outside. Try to see it as blessing that otherwise deaf dog can still hear smoke alarm. Turn off exhaust fan because french toast no longer cooking because all heat being sucked down exhaust.
Set off smoke alarm.
Fire safety lecture to children still watching television.
Ask children to clear off table. (Repeat three times)
Serve french toast, cut up apples and cups of milk amidst four books, a green pumpkin, a wipes box full of markers, five sheets of glitter glued construction paper, two piles of Pokemon cards, a red sweater, a headband, a notebook, and a singing bear toy.
Cry (while retrieving a wad of paper towels) when one cup of milk is now a puddle and the aforementioned are all now soggy.
*Pardon me, Mr. Eliot. How should I presume?