I was an incredible mother before I had children.
Now, my kids are sitting in front of the Netflix box and I’m hiding in the bathroom eating a chocolate bar.
It’s been one of those
Two weeks before our trip to Kenya, I started giving my kids their weekly dose of malaria medicine. Somehow I missed the MICROSCOPIC instructions on my 5 year old’s prescription that told me to give her 1/4 of a pill. I didn’t discover my mistake until the day before we left for Africa, as I was pulverizing the huge adult dosage.
Y’all: I overdosed my child. Not once, but twice.
Thankfully, she’s a belligerent girl who doesn’t conform or take medicine well. Upon my calculations, she didn’t ever get a full dose.
I didn’t sleep a wink, watching over her all night. And I prayed and just between us, I had a meltdown. I could have accidentally killed her.
She’s fine, I might be too someday.
This mothering thing is heavy.
Her next doses while in Kenya and two weeks after we got home, were appropriately dissected and crushed with a pill cutter and mixed with a Fun Dip.
This mothering thing is fun.
At least I’m not one of those moms who let’s their kids do crazy and unsanitary stuff. Like for instance, letting a nasty giraffe lick my child in the mouth.
I would never do that. Ever. Because that would be wrong.
We are moving in 4 days. Yesterday I started on the pantry. I’m nearly forty years old and I just realized can goods have expiration dates. Y’all. Most of mine expired in 2009.
Let’s let that little fact seep in.
Again, with these near-death experiences.
I packed the toaster a few days ago and opened several boxes today to find it. We are eating off styrofoam and I’m at the point where I’m bribing my children with MONEY to babysit each other.
So, duh, motherhood isn’t rocket science.
It’s actually more complicated and a lot harder.