Thought I would be a teacher

So for Christmas Santa brought bikes to all the girls. How fun I thought. But with where we live it snows... so it's not like we can just jump on and go for a ride.Madison my oldest is the only one that knows how to ride her bike. So on a warmer day in March, a balmy 55 degrees I  thought I would teach my red head how to ride her bike. It was spring break, and we have been laying low all week, so I woke up made pancakes and bacon and told the girls of my plan. They shouted with joy ..... "finally". So with everyone bundled we were off. The older two were walking their bikes .... (our destination would be the church.) Me helping guide the baby and Adrianne ...well.... she started crying the moment we left the drive way. Cried down the street, and around the corner. Cried down the next street until we made it to the church. Cried the whole time at the church and just for an extra performance she threw her helmet and with tight fists, throw them down at her side.
While she was off doing her performance of Nellie Olsen from Little house on the Prairie. I thought I would come into teacher mode and teach Miss Juliet. Well ........ didn't work out so well. She started crying saying she wasn't strong enough, and proceeded to whip her ponytail around in utter despair an 8 yr old girl could go through.... while learning to ride her bike. SO with 2 down and the little one getting tired I thought I would hang up the teaching hat and lead everyone home. Adrianne is still crying. Down the block around the corner, down another block, the made the last turn to get on our street ... crying. Such a mother's moment. What the Hell was I thinking. Teaching my daughter how to ride her bike. Hmmmmmm...... this duty might have to go to her father.

STRIKE!!!!!!

I know a lot of Mothers go on Strike at their house. I usually do an annual one. This year was like any other year ... no results. The last straw for me was going to the family room, which is in the basement and looking at the monstrosity. I had cleaned the whole family room two days before. The super clean. I even cleaned the baseboards. Don't ask why.. it was a freak thing.  As I am standing with my mouth open looking at the mess, I am also watching the bologna being picked up from one end of the couch to the other. THAT WAS IT!!!!! I had it. This was the moment I was feeling like I am working on an assembly line. Breakfast, clean house, laundry, lunch, clean house, laundry dinner. You get my drift. I wish I was one of those woman that just didn't care, but I do.

Growing up I always thought that the house came first and me second. Well.... I get it now. It's not that the house came first but that the mom was the one who picked things up. Yes, children help but really, I mean really sometimes that takes more effort than you want to give. I know Just call me Mother of the Year.
Well the strike didn't last very long. 3 days. Then I couldn't take it anymore. SO I guess it's  ......................  Game On