Hell Is Overrated

One thing older, wiser mothers love to tell those of us with younger children is that, one day, in the far distant future, we’ll miss this.

Maybe some days. But today is one I will definitely never long for again.

Ever.

It all started with Boogie screaming his sister’s name at top volume at 2am. Did she wake up? Of course, as did all three adults. I managed to get the babies back to sleep, but not myself. I watched Netflix for three hours, took a shower and toweled off just in time for Bean to puke spectacularly. Not once, not twice, but thrice before the clock even struck 7. No school for her today.

The boys shower. Roo’s is cold, a fact of which I’m sure the entire neighborhood is now aware. I take the boys to school and get Pook ready for the bus. We wait for nearly a half hour before I call the transportation department, only to learn preschool is closed today. A better parent would have known this already, but clearly I am not that parent. Pook is screaming MA BUHHHHH! as I herd her inside. There’s no bus. No school for her today, either.

I’m inside for approximately seven seconds before the elementary school calls. Noodle’s in the office puking. Off we go to pick him up. He’s a sad sack and requires carrying to the car. No school for Noodle today.

It’s now 10:45am. Noodle is in the bathroom cry-shouting how much he needs to poop (again, you’re welcome neighbors!) while Pook is still caterwauling and Bean is semi-comatose on the couch with a barf bowl. Boogie takes the opportunity to steal my panini press and plug it in his bedroom outlet.

Here’s my motivation to be a good human: if I’m bad, I won’t go to Hell. Instead, I will spend eternity living through days like this on repeat. Groundhog Day plus bodily fluids and so much screaming. It’s really a good thing we don’t rent, because the neighbors would surely petition for our eviction. I had grand plans to start my playhouse renovation during naptime today, but it looks like naptime has been cancelled. The whole house smells like stomach bile and poop. Nobody’s gonna sleep in this miasma. To paraphrase a quote from Red in Shawshank Redemption, there’s a hard truth to face here: I’m not gonna make it on the inside. Open all the windows, air out the muck and hose the kids down in the backyard.

Older, wiser mothers miss the days of cuddles and lullabies. Younger mothers miss the days of sleeping in and going to brunch. But nobody – absolutely nobody – misses the days of diarrhea and vomiting.