March, 2018

I got this…

design-3Hi there. Let me introduce myself. I am a mom who barely changes out of pajamas, who tries her best to rarely leave the house without backup. Aka. The hubs. I breakout into a stress sweat thinking of taking both of my children somewhere, ANYWHERE… like, for instance, the grocery store… Let me paint a picture…

Why are car seats so difficult?! I might as well burn all my silk shirts now. They should have fans to cool off mom while she’s taking baby in and out of the car. Is that invented yet?! Did I just become an fucking millionaire?! Bring it Shark Tank.

Then once they are out of the car you need a carrier or a stroller, or worse, a shopping cart. These bacteria infested nasties, that are always strewn across the parking lot by lazy pieces of shit, are always no where to be found when you go to the grocery store?! What the what?! I just need one freaking cart near my car. Dear Lord.

please don't crydon’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

Once inside you calm yourself, this is gonna be fine. Your pit stains start to dry. You’re a flipping queen. Out with both kids like a boss.

Wait. Toddler. How can you reach all this stuff?!! Why are you licking fruit?! That’s dirty. Here’s some pre-cut fruit. Sweet. I’m a great mom. Giving my kid a healthy treat– WHAT. THE. HELL?! Did you just dump all the cantaloupe on the ground?! Why?! Sweat returns.

Baby. You got this. Just chill in your 100+ dollar carrier. Can someone carry me in a giant baby carrier?! Sweet baby is gonna relax. Ouch. Did you just pull my hair?! Eekkk why are you trying to push off me like a spider monkey?! I’m just trying to show you love by wearing you so you can grow up to be a better human… Isn’t that what baby wearing is supposed to do???

Toddler. No. You can’t have a truck you don’t get a toy every time we leave the house. 10 seconds pass. You win. Here’s a damn toy.

Baby. Still attempting acrobatics inside the baby carrier. Tits feel as though they have been punched by a lady wrestler for an hour.

no seriously help meno seriously. please send help.

Stand in the freezer cooling pits wasting all the electricity. Mmmmmm frozen burrito. We’re almost done. Almost there. Just have to get this mess to the checkout.

Cashier. That will be 3 million dollars. Huh?! What?! What did I buy?! I can’t even make a meal with this, but I do have 30 bottles of raw coconut water… makes sense. Baby. Starts to cry. Hands card. Nope. I have to slide it. Nope. I have to insert it. What. The. Hell. Just take my money and get me the fuck out of here.

As you sign your name on the pen pal, you think, “damnit shit balls ass, I forgot the [insert random, but crucial ingredient to tonight’s dinner].” Welp, guess we are never having said item ever again. Get. ME. OUT.

Processed with VSCO with a6 presetplease don’t lick the cart. sigh. kid’s are dumb. 

Back outside. Sweats have started just imagining buckling children back into car seats. Load up trunk. Then begin the 25 minute process of deciding how to get kids in car and then return cart. Store was packed so you’re 6 spaces away from the return. Decide on baby first. He goes in. While you keep your foot tangled in the cart so no one steals your toddler, it’s science. Then toddler. He goes in. Screaming for his truck. You then prepare yourself for the sprint of a lifetime. Deep breaths. And execute, execute. This takes you 12 seconds. You hear that pieces of shit who don’t return carts!?! 12 seconds.

You get in the car and turn that ac shit up MAX. You hold back the urge to cry. Your pits start to dry. You hear your favorite Bieber song start to play. You begin singing, your kids love it. They are so happy. You crack open your coconut water and drive home like a bad ass bitch.

Hells yeah, I got this.