A Mother’s Day To Remember – Manic Mommy Monday 11

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Wow. That is pretty much all I have to say about yesterday. Just, wow. I already had a blog post written in my head just about the morning. But the day got so much more interesting after that! We’ll start with the morning.

My husband always takes The Gnome for 30 minutes to an hour in the morning and yesterday was no different. They came back in and The Gnome wanted nursies so we did that. At that point I asked my husband if he would make me breakfast. He said sure. So, while he was getting that together, I hopped on my phone to browse Facebook and started seeing all of the pictures of the amazing breakfasts that my friends’ husbands had brought them in bed (probably unprompted).

I started seeing pictures of cards (both homemade and store-bought), flowers, and gifts. I always hold on to a little bit of hope that mine will do something sweet and amazing for holidays, but that’s really not his thing. He brought breakfast to me (in bed!).

Coffee and a cold bagel. 

I love my husband. I may have wanted to kill him for just an instant there, but I do love him. And after the fleeting moment of disappointment (and I mean fleeting, it lasted for half of a second), I started to smile. Because my husband SUCKS at special days. I mean, royally sucks at them. But that is total okay.

Because for the rest of the year, my husband is absolutely amazing. 

I couldn’t have asked for a better husband. Did I mention that he takes The Gnome every morning so I can get just a little rest? He’s pretty much taken over the night-time parenting since I night weaned The Gnome too. He doesn’t woo me with flowers, or cards, or homemade art projects that he does with The Gnome (swoon!), or breakfast in bed, or fancy presents. So, he’s not romantic, so what? He’s a reliable husband who works his butt off for us and he is hands down the best dad on the planet.

(In fact, he went to work today even though he’s sick and he just came home for lunch while I was writing this post and unloaded the dishwasher for me. Best. Husband. Ever.)

That was my morning blog post. Pretty good, right? Definitely enough for a blog post. Well, after I got out of bed, I knew we had to start busting butt on the chicken coop. Our oldest two are WAY too big to still be in the brooder and two more are really pushing it too. So we got up and got outside to start working.

The plan was to get as far along as we could on the coop, make a detailed list of what we needed from Home Depot (we for sure need some additional hardware cloth, hinges for the doors, and latches) and then go to Home Depot to get those supplies and my Mother’s Day present (a compost bin!) and go grocery shopping.

Hubby got sick. Like really sick. Started shaking, was dizzy, and nauseous. Poor guy tried to push through it because he knows how much we need to finish the coop. But eventually I had to send him inside and try to work on it alone. I was in a zone with the miter saw, sawzall, and drill.

I burned my thumb with a screw. 

I smashed the same thumb with a hammer. 

I sliced up my arm, toe, and finger with hardware cloth.

I stepped in red ants and my right ankle swelled up to where you could barely see my ankle bone.

I got a sunburn. 

And then, to top it all off, I got chiggers. In my freaking underwear. And all up my sides into my armpits.

When I came in from working on the coop, alone for 6 hours,  Hubby was in the bathroom puking. And that’s about how my Mother’s Day went. Needless to say, I didn’t finish the coop by myself (I certainly can’t lift the roof on alone) and we never made it to pick up my Mother’s Day present. I did get one present though, I got to go grocery shopping alone. Of course I picked up wine, beer, and chocolate for myself. I deserved it!

And when I got back from the store, The Gnome was headed to bed and he ran over and gave me goodnight kisses before waving bye-bye to me and following his daddy into the bedroom. Best Mother’s Day ever.

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