Tis' The Season

Tis the season bitches. I am once again left to what I do best, survival by the skin of my teeth. While Dan is hard at work getting his farmers tan, I am left to get two kids ready for brand new schedules at two different schools, while simultaneously acclimating to having only one parent ninety percent of the time. Super fun. All of the times… 

    So, lets begin with what is going on now in the Shula household. First off we have gotten a new little puppy to join the asylum. A  cute, ridiculously furry and adorable bundle of joy. He’s smart and sweet and has the talent to poop confetti. Confused? Well, all things are edible, no matter what they are or where you put them, he will find them, eat them and then shit them out. So on the daily, as I pick up behind my little Nutella colored fluffball, I get to play ‘I Spy’. (“Oh look there is Splinters finger,” “Damn it! I knew the magic eraser didn’t just disappear,” “Son of a bitch, if didn’t tell those boys to pick up their God damn Leggos”!) Aside from the shrapnel shits, he’s brought fun and excitement that the boys just adore, but he also makes our day a little more crazy, a little more zany and much brighter. But I digress…lets now talk about a day in the life of the worst football wife in America.

     

    MORNINGS:

          

          Each morning I wake up with the intention of a Mary Poppins moment in real time. But then my little Gremlins wake up and I realize that was just a dream and my nightmare was just beginning. Breakfast is always a point of contention in my house because no matter what I make,it is EXACTLY what they did NOT want at the moment and groans and whines are just part of our good morning ritual. So with that it takes them up to 45 minutes to eat two Eggos. There is always a fight on what side of the table they sit (even though they have assigned seats), what plate, what gummie, what sippy cup… you get the picture. 

    SCHOOL:

       

        Logan’s first week went wonderfully, he’s made friends, gotten compliments in behavior and even got kissed by a girl on the playground. He told me, she told him that she wanted to tell him a secret and planted one on him. The kid is a stud what can I say. When discussing his behavior chart at school, we talked about how being a Super Hero means you were good, Side Kick you needed to be talked to on more than one occasion and Training meant that Mommy was going to be called. Then I said, “Well, you will never get Training right?” and he replays, “ No Mommy, but probably Side Kick once and a while. What can I say? Sometimes I am bad”.

   

       Connor on the other hand always keeps it interesting. Not one to be shy, by his third day he was comfortable enough to crap with the door open. Interested? Well, as the legend goes, it was the end of the day and it was story time. And the call of duty called he was unwilling to miss his favorite part of the day. So he told the teacher she could read the story loud enough so he could hear from the crapper and hold it up high enough so he could enjoy the marvelous illustrations from his porcelain thrown. So, if she didn’t raise the book high enough he would tell her so, and when she reached the optimum level, he gave her a thumbs up and a wink for a job well done. All this as he shat, I shit you not. 

 **STOMACH BUG**

       Week one into school I got to step in Connor’s shit at 1 in the morning, explain to him "why his butt is making that noise" at 1:30, watch Octonauts at 2, coax him at 2:30 to puke in the bucket and not the couch, he got extensively chatty at 3, then he remembered he owned a Kermit toy so a massive man hunt ensued at 3:30 and then more bucket holding at 4am. Then the little SOB was up by 6:30, never napped and acted like the night never happened. I thought I would take Logan to school and the rest of the day would be spend with my little muffin snuggling in bed, dozing in and out of slumber. Instead I was chasing a wild man wondering if Benedryling him would hurt his stomach.

EVENINGS:

       

      Not much, mostly because I block it out. But I do know there is fist fighting, wrestling, some light choking and a bark battle.

   But bath time is something I can’t forget, for it goes something like this.

                    

      After bathing Logan while Connor takes his signature 20 minute shit.. Logan steps out and while I am drying him off the puppy tries to lick in between his cheeks. And while fielding the inappropriate attack, Connor is snapping my underwear that is hanging out of my pants while he is still on the shitter. I paused at that moment because this is my life. I have a puppy that wants to toss salad, a 3 year old that defacates more than a 300 pound man, and an ass  so big there is not a pant in the world willing to bare its full capacity.