Now that I have planned, cleaned for, executed, cleaned up after and celebrated 2 – and most of a third –  which was canceled last minute – birthdays for my family this month, it is time to take the time to get it all back on track.

Time to stick to a diet, adjust an attitude and become the mother everyone wants to have.  Time to stop yelling at my kids, play with them more and have more patience.  Time to walk the dogs, get a daily shower and start a new relationship with my razor.  Time to buy lingerie and wear it even on my longest days and put my husband back on the radar.  Time to be the voice of reason, the purveyor of calm, and the example of tolerance.  A spring cleaning of my day and personality, if you will! 

Really, it is time.   Don’t roll your eyes…  it is! 

I’ve already started by writing when I will exercise, play with the kids and shower on my white board.  The fact that I can easily erase and manipulate said board around my motivation each day lingers in the back of my mind like the memory of the last time I had a day to myself. 

But no.  I will be persistent.  I will persevere and get it all back on track!
There is nothing to stop me…  except maybe a 1, 2 and 4 year old.  But that is no excuse.  I can do it and I will.  Other Mothers will be envious, talking of my overachieving wonderfulness during phone conversations.  A blog will be started to prove that someone can do it better than June Cleaver. 

It will be amazing!

That was Monday morning.   After a particularly strong cup of coffee.  That I think I accidentally laced it with too much One a day Energy.

Opening the bottle, crushing it up and throwing it in the cup is too an accident!

It is now Wednesday night and I am all out of motivation to pee much less get it all together.

I have decided that I am ok with being overweight.  It keeps me from ever buying plaid.  Or go – go boots.  Plus, when my kids are crying, the fat acts as a sound muffler and that is just good common sense.  As I eat my chocolate almond indulgence vat of ice cream, I calculate how many times I picked up a child, bent down to get a toy, ran after them on bikes and heaved laundry all over this house.  Surly, I have burned enough to have a bowl…  or seven.  But whose counting?  Overweight is the new heavy and I am in great approval of the movement.

I do still have the motivation to adjust my attitude.  Instead of always looking at things in a negative, sarcastic way, I have decided to view things in a positive things will go wrong, smart ass way.  I feel better already.  Who wants to go hang out?

I am already the Mother everyone wants to have –  committed.  I believe in TV, sugar and bribery as tools to get my children to cooperate.  I’ve fed the dried fruit to the dogs and let the kids use the carrots and edamame to make stick figures of me.  It was all good fun.  The fact that they didn’t nap due to their extreme sugar high was just coincidence.  Besides, if we had had a calm day, I would have had to throw the folded laundry on the floor and dance on it all by myself.  And that is just sad.

I have stopped yelling at my kids.  I’ve replaced it with screaming.  Not a major improvement, I’ll give you, but at least it is a difference.  We do play more, if you call “How much time can you sit in time out without getting a butt cramp?” playing.  And I defiantly have more patience…  sort of…  ok, not really.  But I intended to and that is really all that matters. 

I did walk a dog today and was very proud of myself.  My little chicken killer, who was only here for the day,  got out and took off.  I ran in my flip flops, boobs flapping side to side, belly jiggling enough to invoke envy from Santa, screaming at the top of my lungs “Buuuuuddd!!!!  Come back here!!!!!!”  All of this in front of a prim and properly dressed surveyor lady who was mapping my neighbors yard.  She was driving one of those new, hip,  square cars that I always think should have Kleenex popping out of the roof.  She barely hid her smile as I gathered up my little Houdini.  She was probably thinking to herself that she would never be like me.   Just wait sister….  just you wait.

But hey, chasing is walking – only faster, so it counts. 

I have not showered in 2 days and don’t think I even own a razor anymore.  Not that I don’t want to…  I just am too busy accomplishing my other goal of putting my husband back on my priority list.  I need him to unclog the toilet that the girls threw an entire roll of toilet paper down.  Because that is not a job for a girl wearing a teddy. bear. shirt.

After 3 full days with my kids, the only voices I hear are the ones telling me to jump.  Or drink.  I can’t be sure.  My ears are still ringing from the day of complete chaos topped off with sound barrier busting screams of “MIIIIINNNNEEEEEE!” every 5 seconds.  The calm I experience is only before the storm and I only tolerate running away and joining the circus.  Everything else is a fight…  over and over and over and over and over again.  Until the threats become hallow, the consequences become jokes and the only thing written on the white board is HELP!

Maybe next week I’ll start fresh.  I’ll wake up Monday morning with the power to overcome the endless fights, continual messes, motivation killing whining and energy draining demands. 

Or maybe the week after that.

Or the next.

One week I will get it back on track.  But until I do, I’ll just close my eyes, stretch out my arms and feel my way through the forest that is Motherhood.