Brooke fuller

All Aboard the Struggle Bus

Real life. That’s what’s missing in the world of social media. People put up these pretty pictures and talk about all the goodness in their lives, but holy sheesh I have tons of people tell me how much they appreciate hearing about the craziness of my life because it makes them feel like they are not alone.

So here’s another “Brooke’s day” for anyone wanting some relatability.

I woke up at 7:15 after being up three times last night. I spent most of the night smashed into the side of my hubs, not because we were snuggling all love-dovey-like as those people who are newly married without kids do, but to avoid smashing children who had snuck into our bed or were put there in an effort to keep them asleep.

Rushed to get them ready. Fought with my oldest over her pants, then her shoes, then a hat because on top of the rest of this crazy life we better celebrate stinkin’ Dr. Seuss and have yet ANOTHER dress up week at school. This makes three for the year. I hope they have fun with it because it only causes turmoil in our home. (This is not a dig at the school…I truly appreciate the schools here.) Sent Kyle to drop off the kids so I could shower and get ready for one of my three part-time jobs. Which made him late for work. Took a four and a half minute shower. I have no idea when I last shaved my legs. Thought about it, but then heard the baby crying from his swing so I hopped out.

Went and cooked lunch for some college students that come to a lunch time bible study at the campus ministry I serve at. Led bible study, cleaned up the mess. Went home, graded assignments, responded to emails, went to pick up my girls from school, got them a drink from sonic, which we do one time a week, went to the park, left the park after 15 minutes because my four year old needed to poop. Got home. Realized she had left her toy at the park. Of course at this point she no longer needed to poop. Made her run inside. She came out having not pottied. Made her go back in. She got back in the car and we went back to the park. Retrieved the toy. Went home. Asked them to play outside for 20 minutes. They came in every 5 minutes tracking whatever the world was on their socks inside because of course they need to play outside in their socks. Made popcorn. Fought over popcorn. They brought me a few bites of popcorn being the sweet humans they are. Then my two year old stuck his dirty hands in the popcorn bag. Stuck four fingers into his mouth. Slobbered on them and reached back into the bag. I surrendered ownership at that point. Got mentally prepared to cook supper so it would be ready for Kyle when he got home. Got a text that Hads had soccer practice in 15 minutes. Of course, I’d forgotten about it. Got the little kids ready to go. Listened to Hads cry over shinguards. Spanked her for the incredibly awful fit she threw. Dropped her off at practice and went back to the house to drop the other kiddos off since Kyle got home from work about two minutes after we left. Kyle wrangled the boys and cooked supper while I went back to the field with my four year old to be there when they finished practice. (Talked to a new friend during the practice and got to breathe in adult conversation for 30 minutes).

Went home and listened to children cry because they didn’t want spaghetti. Well then make yourself a sandwich. No I hate sandwiches. Then you may go take a bath and go to bed. Maybe spaghetti doesn’t sound too bad after all. Ate the spaghetti. Two year old fell asleep while eating spaghetti. Threw the others in the bath. Let them watch 15 minutes of TV, not because they earned that, but because I was so exhausted I simply needed a break. Two year old woke up. I cleaned the bathroom while Kyle did the dishes. Looked at the laundry and ignored the laundry…which reminds me that Hads probably doesn’t have any sweatpants (that she likes) to wear tomorrow.

Kyle told them stories and tucked them into bed while I fed the baby. Baby was asleep. Kyle put him in bed. Baby woke up two minutes later. Kyle went to go workout with some buddies because who doesn’t want a buff husband…kidding…because health is important and mainly I feel selfish so I encouraged the dude to leave while at the same time wished he wouldn’t. Tried to prep for my class tomorrow. Baby screamed for 45 minutes and clawed the heck out of me for at least half of that. Clip his nails? Where are the fingernail clippers? Where is a dang binky? Well it wouldn’t matter because he won’t take a binky. Gave baby a bath. Two year old fell asleep again on the couch. Baby finally stopped screaming. I gave up trying to prep for class. Surely Kyle will be home right about the time I need to spend 20 minutes feeding this baby again. I will send him up with Kyle. Hope he goes to sleep so I can spend the next who knows how long trying to do what I couldn’t do the rest of the day while all of their eyes were open.

Today I drove the struggle-bus, but maybe tomorrow I can just be a passenger. Struggle-bussers unite. Hang in there, mommas!

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