Tripping Over Toys!

Have you ever tripped over toy or stepped on a Lego? It's like extreme conditioning training and a part of parenthood. I would rather walk on hot coals than step on a tiny piece of Lego. It is a pain like no other. Often I find myself dodging toys, snack containers, and sippy cups. That is the life of a parent. Even after I have cleaned like no other and the place is sparkling within a couple of minutes my toddler has destroyed the room. Toys about and him happily playing with the final toy he found after dumping the entire toy box out. 

So here am I last night I finished my school work and tackled the dishes that were staring at me from the sink. The same ones that I said earlier could wait til later. Later is now and I might as well get them done while I am still standing here in the kitchen. I'm exhausted and I’m calling it a night. I have one more mission and that is to move my littlest from the living room where he has fallen asleep, to bed.

He’s a light sleeper so I must skillfully move him. I sigh as I see the state of the room. It looks like a bomb went off, sippy cups, baby wipes and toys amok. It's like the 'tough mudder' for mom's. An obstacle course designed to test my every ability. I'm exhausted and spent I can barely hold my eyes open, I didn't train for this. But I've done it a hundred times before. "You got This" I pep talk myself.

I scan the room and then enter ever so slowly. I reach my target and carefully lift him. I feel his tiny body, dead weight in my arms. Success! I cheer on the inside. (I'm doing a celebratory dance in my head). I can see the faint light from my room as I swiftly make my way across the floor towards the door. I've deftly dodged the wipes container and the sippy cup to the left of me, avoided stepping on the slew of dinky cars strewn about and I’m almost there when it happens. I trip over the bloody Sea Patroller from Paw Patrol. I’ve somehow avoided every other object but manage to trip on the one toy that’s makes noise.

The sound of a flock of seagulls fills the room and echoes through the apartment. The little man in my arms starts to stir. The oldest one starts talking in his sleep. I'm cursing on the inside. (Every terrible word I know is shouting inside my head). I was so close. So close to being able to go to sleep. I quickly dash to the bed and set him down ever so carefully. He sighs and lays there nearly motionless other than the soft movement of his chest moving up and down as he breathes. Relief floods over me and I'm about to do a celebratory dance and go to bed.

He feinted me, I thought he was still asleep and managed to stay sleeping through all the commotion. A minute passes after I’ve put his head down on the pillow and he opens his eyes and stares blankly at me, blinks a few times and then says “Mommy Popatrol”…. 

So much for sleep. He's now wide awake and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and drift off to sleep. I'm cursing that toy now, I'm angry at myself for not picking up the toys before I decided to go to bed. I have a tiny human staring at me wide awake. 

So we cuddle up and watch an episode of Paw Patrol before he finally drifts back to sleep and now overly exhausted I get ready to join him and I lay there wide awake. Staring into the dark. Making lists in my head all while envisioning how many ways I can destroy that stupid toy. 

~Mommy Dearest