I Yelled at a Sock and Other Highlights from My Week

I Yelled at a Sock and Other Highlights from My Week

Hey, I’d love to tell you that I’m one of those moms who floats through the day in a matching Alo sweatsuit, sipping a caramel frappe, manifesting good vibes, while my children politely debate who gets to vacuum first.

But no. This week I yelled at a sock.

Not a child. Not even a living thing. A sock. A lone, crumpled sock that’s been living rent-free under my couch for what I can only assume is several presidential administrations. I found it while attempting to retrieve a toy car, a half-eaten string cheese, and possibly my will to live.

The sock refused to cooperate.

I reached for it. It moved further under the couch. I reached again. It disappeared completely. And in a moment of unfiltered mom-rage I screamed, “FINE! STAY THERE FOREVER!”

At a sock.

Meanwhile, my toddler looked at me like I was the crazy one while wearing underpants on her head and calling herself "Underwear Lady."

Other Highlights of the Week Include:

• Eating the crusts off my kids’ grilled cheese instead of making myself lunch.

• Using dry shampoo so aggressively that I think I gave myself a concussion.

• Googling “can a child survive on potato chips alone” while also eating said potato chips like a stressed-out goat.

• Texting my husband “WE ARE NOT OKAY” followed by a photo of a guy jammed into the garbage disposal.

Also Me:
Tells my friends I “really need to focus on self-care.”

Actual Self-Care This Week:
Locking myself in the bathroom and staring into space, while my kid yells 'MOMMY!' through the door like I’ve fled the country.

So if you’re out there, feeling like you’re one sock-screaming moment away from totally losing it—hi, same. You’re not alone, your house doesn’t smell that bad, and no one actually folds fitted sheets, we all just shove them in the linen closet and shut the door like a crime scene.

Motherhood: it's messy, it's hilarious, and it will absolutely break you down just to rebuild you into someone who can hold a child, a phone, a juice box, and a mental breakdown—all at once.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go rescue Underwear Lady from the backyard. She's trying to ride the baby like a horse again.