I am Iron Mom.

With apologies to Black Sabbath and precious Mia...

Have I lost my mind?
Can I see or am I blind?
Can I walk at all,
Or if I move will I fall?
Am I alive or dead?
Are there thoughts in my head?

I don't know where to begin. Yesterday was filled with irony. A neighbor invited Kaila and me over for a playdate. Of course, we happily obliged. The mom and I talked about mom things -- even touching upon the recent lice invasion at Kaila's school.

"Luckily, she didn't get it. I can handle puke, but lice? No way. I'd burn the house down." I joked.

Fast-foward to dinner time.

"My tummy hurts," Kaila whined.

"You're hungry. Sit and eat." I said matter-of-factly. How often have I been through this scenario only to have her eat, pep up and return to her normal self within minutes, I thought knowingly?

The kids sat down. Madan started shoveling Bell & Evans into his mouth faster than the speed of light. Kaila just sat there, giving Bell or Evan (not sure who, they all look alike) her patented fuck-you look. Then, she shifted the same gaze to me. I can't wait until she's a teenager.

"Come on," I said pushing the fork into her little mitts, "You're hungry. Just eat."

Then, "it" happened.

"Mom?"

"Kaila, wha---?"

"ROLF!"

"WHOAAAAA!" screamed Madan totally amazed, "What a MESS!"

Kaila had just christened the kitchen floor.

"Madan, that's ---"

"ROLLLLFFFF!"

"Oh, man! She did it AGAIN! WOW! Mom, did you SEE all of THAT?!"

"ROLLLLLLLLFFFFFF!"

Third time's a charm. I'm not sure about you, but when the kids "ROLF," I don't rush them to the bathroom. I let them ruin the spot where they're at and then cordon it off with police tape until I can gather my thoughts and disinfect. Kaila was now sitting with a horrified expression, covered in crud. Madan was still sitting, staring at the awesome scene that had unfolded before him. I finally stopped sitting and spung into action. I barked at Madan to finish his dinner as far away from the crime scene as possible and to stay away from the evidence. Then, I grabbed all the towels I could, stripped my little Linda Blair and got ready to toss her in the tub. The most bizarre part about all of this is that after she threw up, Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" kept playing in my head. (Naomi, I have no idea why except that I have truly lost my mind.)

"Wow. Being a Mom is the hardest job in the world," Madan said.

Holy shit. Did my six year old really say that? Those words stopped me dead in my tracks. The little dude actually noticed. He actually understood. Holy Hell. He actually appreciated me! It just took Kaila's innards exploding outwards for him to notice. I'd love to say that hearing those words was worth every ounce of hard labor I did that night to scrub the kitchen clean. But F that. I'm keepin' it real. I'd trade every single appreciative comment for a permanent pass on scrubbing sickness away.

I am over it.

I am Iron Mom.