The Fall Of The Domestic Goddess

Sometimes I feel a bit like a domestic goddess.  It's the times when I manage to have my house cleaned and serve out of this world, fabulous meals to my family.   And on mommy duty I become the baby/child whisperer at nap time, referee extraordinaire between two little princesses at play time and the ultimate reader/playmate/craft creator.  And let me not forget the times that I shower early in the morning and wear my big girl clothes.  You know, the kind I wore before kids.  Oh, and get my hair all "did" up.  Yes, it definitely makes me feel like a domestic goddess.

But all that domestic goddess stuff is short lived.  How quickly I am brought back down to earth.  My day made sure I knew the domestic goddess had turned into her stepsister.  And it wasn't looking good.  I had no luck getting a crabby baby back to sleep at 5 a.m. and held him the better part of the morning to prevent screaming tantrums.  Seeing as he is Mr. Pneumonia Man I didn't think screaming tantrums were a plausible option.  No breakfast or snack was in the cards for me unless I wanted Mr. Pneumonia Man's germy coughs or grimy hands all over it.  Finally around 11 a.m. I got 2 of 3 going on a movie out of desperation and 3 of 3 to sleep by bouncing and walking all over the house.  I had to call my husband to pick up 1 of 3 from school as I didn't want to wake the baby.  I held him in an awkward position until he woke up for lunch around 12:30 p.m.  At 2 p.m. I still hadn't showered or even managed to put on my big girl clothes.  I did manage to change into another pair of pajamas as the first pair got tee tee on it from the resident potty trainee.  I gave 3 baths before lunch as the potty trainee had 2 accidents and the baby had a big blow out...in his high chair.  I now know the potty trainee enjoyed the bath and thought of it more as a game.  Really?  Huh.  It was a day.  That's about all I can say.

There are moments now and then when I pretend I'm the domestic goddess.  I try to dress up in her clothes and wear her high heel shoes.  I put on her fancy jewelry and wear her make up.  I even fix my hair all fancy.  But that crazy domestic goddess always finds me out.  And she knocks me back down as fast as she can.   She sends my kids to give me a hug that leave booger residue all over my new outfit or a kiss that turns into a hair do make over, and not for the better I might add.  Or she'll create a distraction and I'll burn the only food left in the house.  The domestic goddess thinks she's won.  But I've got news for her.  I don't need to be a domestic goddess.  I wouldn't trade places with her, not even for a day.  This life as her stepsister is beautiful in it's never ending chaos.  And I know that I'll not always be the stepsister.  One day, much sooner than I wish, my little pile makers, wall colorers, tent makers, doll players and fun loving gigglers will be grown and gone.  Then the stepsister will become the domestic goddess again...but she'll be lonely.  I love my little people.