One crazy family that is on a spiritual journey has a lot of love for each other.


No sense crying over spilt milk?

I see myself as a lively, active mother willing to do whatever it takes to make my childrens lives enjoyable.  Most days I find my children to be an absolute joy.  However, on days like today I thank the Heavens above for anti-depressants.  While helping my husband scan in images for his class, I hear my three year old Do-do from the floor above, crying and that he needs me.  Absently, I said, I will be right there, hold on a minute.  My daughter comes down a few moments later saying that she smells apple juice.  Instantly, I know that Do-do has spilt the apple juice on the floor.  If only that was all.  He not only had he spilt it, but some it when into the vegetable drawer covering all the vegetables.  The remainder of it that was on the floor leaked into the crevices in the floor to the folded laundry below and the table they were sitting on.  When it hit the parts of the table that were bare it splattered onto everything.  Little tiny sticky dots of apple juice all over the walls, the washer and dryer, ALL OVER the floor int he laundry room.  Just when you think, "oh, its not that bad".  It does get worse Do-do decided that his bear pajamas are water proof and walked through the big puddle on the kitchen floor and tracked it through the living room.  So when someone tells you there's no use crying over spilt milk.  Don't you listen, you just go ahead a cry, while you mop it up.

From: The Chronicles of One Whacked Out Frazzled Mommy.


Kindra said...

Oh my!!! I am sorry, but also glad to see that other moms have those days too! :)

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kdaygirl said...

Spilled milk is not a Sticky as apple juice either. I think I would have cried because no matter how good you clean you always find sticky spots later!

tricia said...

Wow, i haven't had that happen yet, but i'm sure my day will come.

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Michael Canoy said...

I know that hopeless feeling. But cheer up there is an answer. Hank Williams said, "Don't worry. Nothing will turn out OK anyway." Seriously though, We've raised 8 kids, the oldest is 48 and the youngest. There will be good days and bad days. Slowly the good days become more numerous and the bad days more rare until one day you wakeup and discover, "Hey! I've raised a human, and a pretty good one at that." Of course first there's the teenage years.