I think that today is the day that I officially loose it

I love my kids, I really do, but being a stay-at-home mom I see them a whole lot. So in order to get a little mommy time, I try to get up after Mike has had his shower (5:30ish am), get my shower, do my make -up, and head downstairs to the computer, coffee in hand, to catch up on email, write a clever, witty blog, and see what stupid thing Jon Gosselin did last night. I love this time because the house is quiet, all is calm, and the day is new with possibilities, usually.

This morning, however, was not so peaceful.

It started with our cat Bella sounding the alarm that I had slept a little longer than usual. This cat has the most annoying meow that you have ever heard. Besides the fact that it is annoying, she is also persistent, and apparently she can tell time because when I hadn't entered the bathroom, where she waits for me everyday, at my usual hour, she started to panic and decided that immediate action needed to be taken.

So I flew out of bed to muzzle her before she woke the kids, but I was too late because I could hear Elyse starting to stir. I wasn't too concerned because usually she will settle down and go back to sleep if she is awake at that hour, so I went about my usual routine. Periodically though, she is still making some noise.

When she still wasn't completely out after I was finished in the bathroom, I decided to go in and make sure that she was covered up and had her pacifier. She had neither and thus commenced Operation: Find the Damn Pacifier Before She is Too Awake and All Hope of A Quiet Morning is Blown to Hell. It was finally located wedged between the mattress and bumper, after I had moved the entire crib in a desperate attempt to find the stupid thing.

Still hopeful, because I am pathetically optimistic like that, I got my coffee and headed downstairs to enjoy some quiet mommy time. Just as I settled in to write my newest post, Elyse started to cry, and not the cry that you think she is going to settle herself, but the kind where you know you are going to have to take action because you're the mom, and it's your job, and like, the law or something. So I went back upstairs to see what was wrong, but of course when I got there all was calm.

Fingers crossed, I went back down to settle into writing mode when I heard the furry siren blaring again...BELLA. So back up I went to retrieve said dumbass and lock her in the basement with me. By this point I am starting to get a little, let's call it irritated, but I sat down to try again. You can see where this is going right?

Not five minutes later, the screaming starts again, and I decide that she must be having some teething pain, so I go up to get the Orajel, only the Orajel isn't in the medicine basket in the bathroom, it is in the diaper bag, and the diaper bag isn't hanging in the closet upstairs, it is in the basement, on the washing machine. The basement that I had just left to go upstairs and retrieve the Orajel. Son of a.....

Back down to get the Orajel.

Back up to administer the Orajel, but baby is quiet.

Now I wait, because you know, fool me once...But nothing. Only quiet is coming from her room. Still I wait, and nothing. Deep cleansing breath, in and out, and then back downstairs...again...because I'm dumb like that.

Typity, type, clickity, click... screaming. The universe hates me. It's the only explanation. This time I just go in, apply the Orajel, give her the pacifier, cover her up, and say a little prayer that this works because 7:30am is just too early to start drinking or so I have been told.

Of course it doesn't work and that is why I am writing this from my room at the Home for the Completely Insane.