Adventures in Momming

My very good pal Kiki over at I Still Hate Pickles said "Sharing struggles doesn't mean that your struggles don't matter. It helps to know that you aren't alone, and that you always have things to be thankful for!"  I am thankful she said it, because here I go sharing:

Today, I am home with two sick kids, a fever, no voice or groceries and a dog with a flea.  When a toddler that is still nursing gets a sore throat, do you know what happens? He wants to nurse non-stop.  So while I am trying to clean up the dog barf resulting from the hair ball the dog pulled from the spot in her hind quarter where the single flea that she's very allergic to bit her, my son is frantically yanking on my shirt trying to get things out, and the harder he cries the more snot pours from his face.  I am thankful Ella is content to lay about on the couch and overdose on cartoons, but a few times she's had some odd requests; "I need to put pockets on the inside of my robe so I can whip out tools and weapons like a spy, where's the tape?"

At some point this afternoon, I need to pack everyone up and their snot and venture out to the grocery store because we were in Illinois last week and the ice box has in it: tortillas, clementines, old lunch meat, pickles, a half bottle of wine and ketchup. If I can get my boob back in my shirt long enough to get shoes on we'll go get supplies and maybe plumber will finally call me back.  While we were gone, the odd smell in the master bathroom's toilet room, that didn't go away when we bleached everything in there, got worse.  I think an animal expired in the exhaust vent, Dan thinks there could be something wrong with the pipes, so I need a plumber who knows ducts and won't hang up on me when I say "dead animal." So far I've called six and only one called me back.  He wants $120.00 to walk in the door.  Also before he walks in  the door, I need to put the dirty laundry away, empty the diaper pail and wipe the toothpaste off the mirror. In the mean time, I've shut the door and am pretending that room no longer exists. Which brings me to being thankful for having a second commode.