You know the tune…feel free to sing along!

On the first day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

A poopy blowout (right after changing her into her white winter overalls, of course).

On the second day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Two broken breast pumps (I love breastfeeding!) and a poopy blowout.

On the third day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Three C-section scars (you think that scar on your knee from that old college injury looks funky, you ain’t seen nothing!), two broken breast pumps, and a poopy blowout.

On the fourth day of Christmas my daughters gave me to me:

Four muddy boot prints (on the freshly cleaned floor no less..but at least it’s only four right now, since the baby can’t walk), three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps and a poopy blowout.

On the fifth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Five massive meltdowns (all in public places, naturally!), four muddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps and a poopy blowout.

On the sixth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Six feet with weird toenails (my husband’s toes, and when they are teenagers they are going to be pissed because they have weird toenails that constantly requiring trimming) five massive meltdowns, four muddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps and a poopy blowout.

On the seventh day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Seven restless bedtimes (every friggin’ night of the week this child refuses to go down without a fight, you know who I’m talking about Ms.P!) six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four muddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, and a poopy blowout.

On the eighth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Eight loads of laundry (on a single Saturday… you have to be kidding), seven restless bedtimes, six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four muddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, and a poopy blowout.

On the ninth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Nine meals of dishes (each and every day, 365 days a year…no wonder I can’t keep a manicure looking good to save my life), eight loads of laundry, seven restless bedtimes, six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four buddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, and a poopy blowout.

On the tenth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Ten extra pounds (enough said), nine meals of dishes, eight load of laundry, seven restless bedtimes, six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four muddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, one poopy blowout.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Eleven doctor’s visits (in one month! We had a weight check, two flu clinics, a 4-year-old physical, another weight check, a viral fever, and list goes on and on), ten extra pounds, nine meals of dishes, eight loads of laundry, seven restless bedtimes, six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four buddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, and a poopy blowout.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my daughters gave to me:

Twelve of the most beautiful arms and legs, attached to two of the biggest and cutest heads, and one of the cutest and most normal sized heads you’ve ever seen! eleven doctor’s visits, ten extra pounds, nine meals of dishes, eight loads of laundry, seven restless bedtimes, six feet with weird toenails, five massive meltdowns, four buddy boot prints, three C-section scars, two broken breast pumps, and one poopy blowout!

Happy Holidays to all Moms who can relate to a single word of this song! May you enjoy the holiday season with your children.

 

 

 

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