This picture is my day today.
It’s 5:55 on the dot. How do I know that? Because I’ve checked the clock 262 times today. Why? Because from 630 am this morning my twins have taken turns crying along with sometimes screaming in unison. The biggest difficulty to twins is that they go through stages together. Why would this be hard? Because when I say stages I mean TEETHING and wanting to both be held from sun up to sundown because they notice when I leave the room now. They’ve both blown out of 6 outfits between them because teething means diarrhea (hashtag the blessings keep coming). So even though my mom comes over weekly to help me keep up with all the laundry it’s been 2 days since our last power through and now I’m behind again.
Brogan and I ate grubhub for lunch because I’m terrified to walk into a grocery store right now. Apparently having anxiety PRE pandemic leads to having some pretty intense anxiety DURING a pandemic. Who knew? So we’ve survived on ramen and tortilla pizzas since this whole thing started. My house is an absolute disaster because I’ve had at least one human wrapped around my hip or leg all day and I am worn. Down. I am so tired. And I am so. Touched. Out. On a normal day relief would be coming.
Jon would be home soon and I would go hide and cry in the tub. But not tonight. Tonight it’s 6 pm and he’s just starting his side job to make a little extra income during this craziness. In hopes that if his job gets shut down we’ll be okay for a bit. He doesn’t have a job where he can work from home so if it’s shut down we’re toast. So even though I need him he’s doing what he can to provide for his fam and that’s a real cute move.
What’s the purpose of me saying all this? So that if you’re having an April 2nd someday (or today) you can be like dang. At least it’s not just me. At least there’s a little crazy behind the Negley’s door too.
So instead of having help tonight. This is where I am. Both twins in the tub (their happy place) for the 3rd time today, me eating an edible cookie dough ice cream sandy, and my two year old doing whatever it is two year olds do when they’re unsupervised. And if you get the urge to mail me a beer? I will shotgun that sucker immediately.