Why is the floor wet? What is in your mouth? Why is everything I touch sticky?

Mommy is tired. It has been a long week! Lots of fun—golf outing, networking events, lunch and learns, volunteering at the Hunger Task Force Farm… I know, I know. Rough life. But mommy is beyond tired. And when mommy is tired, everything at home feels like an episode of Parenting: The Twilight Zone.

Why is the floor wet?

I asked this question three times this week. Each time, I got the same response: silence. Which is never a good sign. Was it water? Juice? Dog bowl overflow? My own tears? I’ll never know. What I do know is that the fastest way to turn a “normal” day into a meltdown is stepping in an unidentified puddle while wearing socks.

What is in your mouth?

Listen, kids have a sixth sense for finding things. Not toys, not snacks—just things. Random, tiny, horrifying things. A marble. A sticker. A stale goldfish cracker that somehow survived under the couch cushion for two weeks. If my kids ever go missing, I don’t need bloodhounds. I just need to scatter paperclips and pennies—they’ll track them down in minutes.

Why is everything I touch sticky?

I don’t know when exactly my house turned into Willy Wonka’s factory, but I can confirm that stickiness is the default setting now. The table? Sticky. The remote? Sticky. The back of the couch? Sticky. WHY IS THE BACK OF THE COUCH STICKY? It’s like living in a funhouse, except instead of mirrors and laughter, it’s just sugar residue and confusion.

So yes, Mommy had her week of “grown-up fun” with golf, networking, and volunteering. But the real highlight? Coming home to my very own circus where the floor is a puddle, someone is probably chewing on a LEGO, and my hands stick to everything like I’m Spider-Man.

Parenting isn’t glamorous. It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s sticky. But it sure keeps the blog material coming.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go Clorox-wipe the ceiling fan—because apparently, that’s sticky too.