life at the daily grind

My day started like most others. We all got up. My husband left for work, it was his duty day so it would be just me and the kids until the next morning.  By noon we had faced numerous meltdowns, and not just the children.  At least seven separate occasions arose throughout the morning. I asked for help with little things, like Please pick up your toys. Put your dishes in the sink. Don't jump when you're eating. Stop hitting your brother. Stop jumping off the couch. Along with the usual DON'T DO THAT! Each time I would ask kindly, gently, peacefully. Each time I was ignored as the children continued to run around screaming and giggling and ignoring. Until finally I would break. Yelling and growling in frustration, implementing time outs, and taking away toys. Each time I was met with wide eyes and arguments. Wondering why is she so mad? Why is she overreacting? Why is she being so unreasonable? And I sit there wishing I could somehow explain that maybe, if they had list

Ok, so I know it's not Monday, but it's been a while since #mugmonday happened around here.  I can't remember if I've shared this mug already, but the weather is giving me wicked New England vibes, and this mug conjures up such visions as well. I can't use this mug without remembering walking down old, old streets of a fishing village on the Massachusetts coast. Like Rockport, but I'm not sure if that's where it was. Like today, fog hung thick in the air, casting a mysteriousness over everything.  My family had driven the couple of hours to visit my brother for the day. He went to college up in Wenham, MA and it was always a treat to see him.  I remember wandering into a little shop called the Wicked Peacock and purchasing a small piece of jewelry, though I can't for the life of me me remember what it might've been now. Down an alley there was a little art shop, and next to it was an open faced studio filled floor to ceiling w