The No Good, Very Bad, Awful, Horrendous, Stupid, Crappy, Terrible, Miserable, Agonizing, Dreadful Day

Tweet Yes, a bit melodramatic, but it felt good to say. In the true spirit of keeping it real (that is what we do here at N.B.M., after all) I am going to tell you about the day I had yesterday. It was probably not the worst day of my life, but it feels like it. You get a lot of these days being a mama, but as a mama you do what you gotta do- you soldier on.
I noticed the Spawn being unusually rotten yesterday morning. By 11 am we already had screaming (by all) and time-outs in respective Spawn rooms. Not Blessed Aunt came over and noticing the generally hostile state of things, took Spawn to Grandma's house to swim. A very nice gesture, it gave me a little bit of time to get out Spawn#3's scrapbook and start to work on it. Yup, start to work on it- he's 3 and it was empty. The poor 3rd child. Things were going well until the panicked phone call from Grandma came- Spawn#3 had hit his poor, small, sweet head on a table corner and probably needed stitches. I shoved my own panic aside and raced to get my little Spawn. He was in Grandpa's arms, with a gash on his forehead about 3/4 an inch long. I would like to note here that Spawn#3's only two awful injuries and ER trip's were Grandpa-related. Accidents happen, but I'm just sayin'. A few hours later we were home with a couple stitches and my brave Spawn#3 was basically back to normal.
Well, a pretty crummy, awful day, wasn't it? If only that had been it! When we were finally home, I saw down on the couch to relax with a piece of pizza and a wine spritzer (ok, it was Arbor Mist cut with Shasta Lemon-Lime. Don't judge me!) and I had this feeling about Spawn#3. He was no where in sight, and quiet. I went into the bathroom and Spawn#3 took off running- because he had...... wait for it....... filled the toilet bowl with popsicle sticks, glitter, a few pounds of beads and some small plastic toys. I called N.B.Aunt feebly ("I need help!") and out of the goodness of her heart, she stuck her arm in to fish out as much of the toilet party as possible. Later she told me that when she found me laying facedown on the bed, she was worried I was getting close to offing myself. I was.
Meanwhile........ Spawn#1 was in the other bathroom and Spawn#2 went to change her clothes. Hearing a bloodcurdling scream come from her room, we ran to find her with poop all over her dress. She ran into the bathroom in hysterics, leaving a nice trail of waste where ever she stepped. Seems Spawn#3 needed to go while the other toilets were occupied, and his sister's room was the perfect spot. So to finish off this FREAKIN' AWESOME day, I got to scrub up some poop.
This was the point when I really began questioning my sanity and how much longer it would hold.
N.B.Daddy called at this point to do a webcam chat with the Spawn, so after some fighting over the laptop and Spawn#3 removing his bandage (sending Spawn#2 into hysterics again), I ushered the Spawn into bed. When they were all l laying down, I told them that I loved them- and that tomorrow would be better. "How do you know?" asked Spawn#2. I just did. Because when you're a mama, you do what you gotta do- you soldier on.