I looked downstairs in time to see a child spilling laundry softener all over a table. If I thought that was bad enough, I should've held my breath for what came next.
I told the child to let it go and leave it alone.
The child then stepped back and explained they were catching the spilled softener through a crack in the table. And what should he be collecting it in but an upside-down toilet plunger.
As if to add to the excitement, the baby was screaming, the cat was in heat and letting the whole neighborhood know and my hair still wasn't fixed at 10:30 am. UGH.
Then, Janae came upstairs with dirt caked boots and Landon begged to play with "cabinets." (they're actually "sticky rocks" or magnets but he gets his words mixed up sometimes.) By begged, I mean he insistently pleaded. While the baby cried. While the cat meowed. While Janae vigorously kicked her boots off all over the kitchen floor.
The worst part about it isn't that my child was holding a germ coated toilet plunger. Or that I am about ready to kill the cat. Or that Janae's boots meant dirt all over the floor. Or that Alex's crying is at about 257 decibles. The worst thing about this situation is that I used that laundry softener when I was pregnant with Alex. I vowed to never smell the stuff again. Ever. Again. That smell always puts me right back to those sick, pregnant days. I get sick just thinking about that smell.
And now because my child is running all over this house with it coating his shirt sleeves, I can't get away from the smell. I feel pregnant now. And sick. I almost think I need to take a pregnancy test. Seriously. That smell is that bad.
Some days are just like this: you never know what will happen next. I have learned that if it's not a normal day, everything goes the way you expect it to. Today must be a normal day.