Todays meltdown is brought to you in part by stair and asphalt. Not just any stair, but the stair you never see coming because you forget it’s there. Then followed up by the asphalt that jumps up and bites you in the face after you miss the forgotten step.
This morning started off like two chickens chasing their tails. Well, chickens don’t really have tails. Mini me was up having her own moshpit in her crib, followed by objects being chucked out at incredible speed and with relative accuracy. Nothing like getting hit in the face with an empty sippy cup while heading over to get death bowels changed. As for my oldest he was just mumbling and screaming away to the frustration that is Subnautica and running out of food.
After a few minutes of ducking and dodging, I finally succeed in getting stinky butt changed and into new clothes. My oldest well he just walked downstairs to make himself some oatmeal for breakfast and start me a cup of coffee. Mini me wasn’t going to try and make the trek down the stairs easy either. She started bouncing herself in my arms, smacking my face, giving me nose kisses and banshee screeching before we even hit the baby gate. So I carefully and methodically made my way over the gate, her in tight tow, and down the stairs we went.
Breakfast went relatively simple, she had bananas, Kai had a super slimey bowl of oatmeal and as for me, I had coffee–the breakfast of champions. No food exploded in the microwave, no food found itself on the floor, and all in all it was super easy. It actually brought a tear to my eye. Enough about breakfast.
An hour or two passed and my kid comes darting down the stairs as if he was part of the stampede that killed Mufasa in The Lion King, yelling, “Mom it’s snowing!”
I roll my gaming chair out from behind the divider and look out the back window, and it sure was snowing. We weren’t supposed to get any glimpse of snow so the excitement overtook my body and possessed me. I got up ran to the front door, boobs acting like they were Dumbo, flying around in the large hoodie I was wearing (bra’s are too difficult to put on in the morning). I swing open the door and just stare outside clapping at the huge fluffy snowflakes falling in rapid succession. My daughter out of her highchair comes running over clapping and banshee wailing, my oldest is on the stairs speaking in tongue.
I completely forgot that there’s a step that leads into and out of my house due to the excitement that possessed my body. I go to run out of the house, completely missing the step down and crumpled down like a paper man onto the cement walkway. I laid there angry at the fact that I was outside, cold, and face down. My kids just laughed away at me and darted out the door, climbing and jumping over me in their underwear, well my daughter was in her diaper, and played in the snow that graced our presence.
The flurry ended as fast as it came, and it was time for everyone to come back inside. So we all walked inside sad. This time, I didn’t miss the step.