It's a Great Day! Kinda.

Today was one of those mornings. And when I say it was one of those mornings, I mean it was pretty much like every other morning.

Except that... drum roll...

Today is The Doctor's birthday! Woot! Woot!

You'd think that would be enough to get all the kidlets out of bed, seeing as how they absolutely love nothing better than tackling, mobbing, and singing bizarre renditions of populars songs at the top of their lungs.

Wrong.

The only time my kids get out of bed willingly is every single day they don't actually have to. Like on Saturdays, when they're up at 4:37 a.m. on the dot, yelling at each other, knocking large pieces of furniture over, and crashing into our room to turn on the lights and tattle on each other. They're helpful that way.

So instead of leaping up and showering their dad with affection and well wishes, I dragged them out of bed, still fairly bleary-eyed myself, and shoved them all into the kitchen. The Doctor got the equivalent of this lovely little dirge:

Except this group sings with loads more enthusiasm than my kids did. I'm not much of a morning person, but there might have been a Johnny Appleseed hat and an axe or the like involved in our version, too. I try not to notice those sorts of things. 

So The Doc made his own Birthday breffy, and the kids and I spent our time productively fighting over sharing the bathroom and arguing discussing whether or not snow means actual jackets are necessary over their T-shirts and shorts. 

After shoving two screaming (jacketed) kids and one sullen preteen onto the school bus, I came home to find the smoke alarm had been set off by the steam from the shower. When I jumped up to grab the alarm, I knocked a chunk of plaster into my eye. One eye flush and one angry, swollen eye later, I staggered into the kitchen to see the last of a stick of butter disappearing down the dog's gullet.

It's at this point that it hits me that I just put in an appearance at the bus stop in my hot pink, polka dot fuzzy socks, royal blue long johns, and Medusa hair. 

So happy birthday, love. We may be a mess, but we're your mess, and we love you!

 


Update: So it was actually The Doctor's B-day yesterday, but seeing as how I couldn't actually see around my swollen, plaster damaged eyelid well enough to write, I'm posting it today instead. So it's really kinda like he's getting two birthdays! You're welcome.