Every great once in a while, my life reads like one of those multi shared blog stories that circulates social media. Not the tearful, feel good kind either, – the hair pulling, I can totally relate to your life, post.

My morning started with “Ben has a temperature,” as all good stories about babies do. Daycare called with the news; Ben has leaky diapers, a red butt, a drooling river of a mouth, and he’s one crabby little man. Ladies and gentlemen, I may have a teething baby. Which means a temperature that translates to a big, fat send home from daycare. A baby cannot be in daycare with a 100 degree temperature for 24 hours after the leave time, medication free too. Or a doctor’s note to clear baby as “clean and ready to rumble.” Kind of a hassle.

Of course it happens on the busiest day of work. Bye, bye deadlines, hello overtime. I love staying home with my baby, cuddling all day and doing nothing but take care of my little man. But the sick time, landed on the worse of the worse times.

Things unraveled from there.

In an attempt to fight the red butt, my free range, diaper less baby turned my living room into a pig pen, toys everywhere, including poop all over the carpet and pee on the tile. My baby loves to roam and play in his birthday suit.

Ben proceeded to crawl through the poop before I caught him. Two poop piles turned into six.

That giant pee puddle on the tile, baby decided to play and roll in it.

Shortly after, I dropped a whole tub of blueberries on the kitchen floor, which my baby and cat proceeded to smash. The floor looked like blueberry jam. That moment, I pulled my hair out and screamed.

I cannot remember the last time I showered. Yesterday? Two hours ago? This morning? My memory is gone.

While putting something away in the bathroom, that something I don’t remember (again memory fail), I turned my back for three seconds and found my baby playing in the toilet, hands and fingers splashing away in the toilet bowl water.

Three baths later, baby spits up all over his new onesie, then a blanket, and then the carpet again.

I ponder if I should professionally clean my carpets or just keep using Resolve. Or get new carpet when Ben turns 18.

Found my cat licking food off the dirty breakfast dishes in the sink. Later, I found my cat sleeping in the baby’s room for the 100^th time (under the crib). The cat bit me when I ushered him out. Then, my cat unrolled the toilet paper in my bathroom, which he never does. I think my cat hates me. Anyone want a cat?

My baby woke up every two hours last night.

My cat woke me up every two hours too.

My cat woke me up at 5:00 am this morning.

My cat finished off my breakfast.

My work inbox has over 100 new emails, and its not even noon.

Laughing yet? Because I still cannot believe the day I had and the day I’m having now.

In those hectic times, I remember a little bit of advice someone gave me long ago, “If you keep calm, you’ll be in control.” I lost a bit of control when I dropped the blueberries on the floor. A swear word or two slipped out. But under that all, it’s not the worst day of my life and my life doesn’t read close to one of those crazy blog stories that make you cringe.

Close, but not quite.