You wake up happy, vowing to have an amazing day and not lose your cool like yesterday. Throw in a few woodland creatures (WHY did we get THREE cats again?!) and tiny evil gnomes (Mommy loves you!) and you’ll go down in a puff of smoke labeled the “Evil Queen” once again. When did my life become a jacked up Mom version of a Disney Movie? I guess it has something to do with these:
You’re always late for the ball. You blame the kids but really it’s the fact that you keep underestimating the time it takes to get 2 kids dressed and then redressed after the big one spills yogurt on her shirt and the little one poops herself.
Your carriage barely runs better than a pumpkin and you can’t find anyone willing to transform a mini-van into a kid friendly Porsche.
You can shoot ice daggers from your eyes that rival anything Elsa can do with her hands. If you want to test that power kiddies, just sing “Let it Go” one. more. time.
Every bath-time leads to a epic meltdown because someone doesn’t want to get her hair brushed. She acts like it’s a deleted scene in Tangled where Rapunzel has to get her 25 miles of hair combed out with a porcupine.
Your kids will wake you up with a kiss. Or a kick to the groin, knee to the boob, punch to the chest cavity. Whatever gets the job done and gets you up and making their breakfast like the Princess you are!
You’re half convinced your offspring are being secretly raised by a Baboon judging by their climbing abilities and need to strip down to their underwear every chance they get. Might as well see if they have any child sized loincloths on Amazon.
Children have absolutely no filter. They’ll say super embarrassing things about people right in front of them with Giselle (Enchanted) like naivety and wonder. “Look Mommy that man has long hair like a girl!” Yes dear, where’s that hole to another world you crawled out of I desperately want to jump in it.
Some days it seems like you live in Neverland because everyone is acting like a baby. Then they go to sleep and are finally quiet. Nobody is hitting anybody else and you stare at them and it’s Toy Story all the way cause “Look how big they are! They’re getting independent and soon they won’t need me anymore.” I guess you never really regret biting into that motherhood apple. Sure some days the poison hurts but in the end its Happily Most-of-the-Time After!