I love being a mom. It’s a lot of fun, most of the time. But if I were painting a picture of Cleaver-esque perfection in my home, I would be lying to you. For all the love, for all the fun, for all the smiles, for all the laughter, there are just those days. You know what I’m talking about. Days where all you want to do is find the nearest UPS Store and ship those suckers off to the first taker.

Today has been one of those days.

I’ll just break down a few of the conversations I’ve had with my son.

Conversation One:
Me: Virgil, don’t take your shoes off in the car, ok?
Virgil: Ok, mommy. (A few minutes later as we’re driving down the road…) Mommy, my shoes are broken!
Me: (After looking back to see what was going on) Ok son, just don’t take them off. I’ll fix them when we get out. (They weren’t broken.)
Virgil: (A few minutes later) Mommy, my socks are funny!
Me: (After looking back again) Son, I told you not to take your shoes off! You’re not supposed to take your shoes off in the car!
Virgil: Well, I did!
Me: (uncontrolled laughter)
Virgil: Mommy, I’m funny!

Conversation Two:
Virgil: (After leaving Chick-fil-A) Mommy, I want your coke!
Me: No, son. No more coke. You’ve had several drinks of it. That’s enough.
Virgil: Mommy, I want your coke!
Me: No, Virgil. No more coke today.
Virgil: Mommy, can I have some of your coke? Pretty, pretty please?
Me: No, Virge. No more coke.
Virgil: Mommy, can I have your coke?
Me: Virgil, you’ve had enough coke today. No more.
Virgil: (A few minutes later) Mommy, can I have your coke?
Me: Yes, when we get home.

Conversation Three:
Me: Virgil, did you just take that toy away from Addie? You made her cry! Give it back to her right now.
Virgil: Mommy, she wants (insert other random toy here).
Me: No, she wants that toy. And you took it from her. Give it back right now or I’m counting to three.
Virgil: Mommy, she needs you to feed her!
Me: Virgil, give her the toy because if I get to three, I’m taking it away from you, too.
Virgil: Mommy, she needs to take a nap!

Conversation Four:
Virgil: Mommy, can I have some ice water, pretty, pretty please?
Me: Yes! (I get up to walk to the kitchen.)
Virgil: Mommy, can I have some ice water, pretty, pretty please?
Me: Yes, sweetie. I’m getting it.
Virgil: Mommy, can I have some ice water, pretty, pretty please?
Me: Virgil, I’m getting it!
Virgil: I want the blue cup!
Me: (Grabbing the blue cup…)
Virgil: No! I want the nother blue cup!
Me: (Grabbing the other blue cup…)
Virgil: No! I want the red cup! (Proceeds to melt down and refuse any water, in any cup, no matter the color.)

Conversation Five:
Virgil: (After coming out of his room during nap time when he knows better) Mommy, I need my big monster truck!
Me: Virgil, go back to bed.
Virgil: (After coming out of his room again) Mommy, I need to tinkle!
Me: Then go tinkle and then go back to bed.
Virgil: (After coming out of his room again) Mommy, I need to dance!

Yes, this is my life these days – reasoning with a two year old. All the while balancing a soon-to-be eight month old on my hip, who insists on having her fingers up my nose, in my eye, or pulling off my earring at all times. It’s not a glamorous life by any means. We went out for lunch today and I thought to myself how nice it will be when I can accessorize again. For now, I’m stuck with stud earrings and headbands thanks to one grabby infant and one rambunctious toddler.

But when I think back on my day, however exhausting it has been, I have to give myself a little credit that I’m even capable of holding an adult conversation after dealing with crazy all day. It reminds me of the commercial where the mom is so used to talking baby talk all day, she starts talking that way with her husband until he takes her to a play. She leans over to him during the performance and whispers “dynamic use of iambic pentameter.”

Yes, I can relate. Perhaps I need some iambic pentameter in my life. Or perhaps I could learn to better assess the literary elements of Mickey Mouse Club House. Oh well. A glass of Pinot Grigio will suffice. Here’s to motherhood!