Discipline and iPad Chargers

You know those days when you have changed as many diapers as you have outfits on your child? Somehow, you too have changed as many shirts. Those days when your seven year old gives cold pizza to your 18 month old in the car and the only rectifying moment in carpool line is your children beg you to roll down the windows and blare "Video Killed the Radio Star" {so, of course you do... and all adults stare at you with a bewildered look as if to say, "ohhhh-kay?!"}?

When one child wants salmon and the other wants chicken and after eating exactly zero protein at supper, there is no shampoo in the bottle, but plenty elsewhere, and more water on the bathroom floor than in the shampoo ladened bathtub?

Two naked girls running in circles in the 27 square foot bathroom, hopping in soapy puddles, and laughing too loudly too keep their man-made Seattle weather a secret. Compound that with when the rainmaker slips on the floor while dancing in the water only to howl at the unfairness of gravity. Oh, and the drenched baby is crying on the other side of the door in a puddle of tears and bath bubbles?

You know those days. Surely I am not the only one.

That time when there is a pretty cut on your face where that diaper wearing son threw a block at your face... and laughed. That kid has an arm, even if he doesn't have aim.

I hope he doesn't have aim, otherwise I am schticked.

Or how when the cable is out, the iPads are dead and that has perfectly coincided with Husband being on call?

Yeah... those are the days. The days that "they" say we will look back on and smile? Until that time- I am doling out discipline and iPad chargers like scary men in conversion vans dole out candy and promises of bright modeling careers.


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