Kids.
They do not understand what a migraine is.
They do not understand you must immediately take cover in the cloak of a darkened room with the aid of a Tylenol 3 because that is the only thing your dr will give your pregnant ass.
They do not understand the strict sentences, "please do not be loud and please do not fight"
In fact, they do the opposite. They fight with more passion than ever before and they decide the kitchen is where they will do the most damage.
I fed them lunch. I fed them plenty.
So why does my five year old decide she wants peanut butter and jelly on ritz crackers and she wants them on Marias Clay Chameleon 6th birthday party plate where all her friends signed their names? Furthermore, why does she decide to set said plate precariously atop a bowl that is sitting on countertop because I have migraine and didn't get to clean up after lunch, so that the plate can come crashing down shattering into tiny pieces with large chunks scattered across floor....all of this loud chaos occuring while I'm trying to get rid of migraine so I can return to supermommy (not grouchy mommy) status.
Why me? Why today?
Oh yeah, I forgot.
I chose mommyhood and this is what supermommies do. We get up out of bed long enough with a raging, flash producing migraine to sweep up the mess and send the kids to their bedrooms for a nap or reading time so we can return to our peaceful, dark bedroom with the fan blasting, so we can work on the migraine once again, because it is now back at "kill me now" status.
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