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Ain't No Party Like a Mom-Life Party

04/06/2015 05:03 pm ET | Updated Jun 06, 2015

I expected many things from this parenting gig, but I did not expect my mom life to parallel the party days of my youth. From sunrise to sunset, I host a party that would make most college kids jealous. Are you ready for this? Let's party!

The day starts with Jump Around. I wish I was talking about the House of Pain song, but unfortunately, I'm talking about being jolted awake by the kids jumping up and down on my bed. Something tells me this is going to be quite the bash.

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I stumble into the kitchen to get the kids their breakfast. They start barking their drink orders at me while I frantically scour every cupboard for clean cups. Disposable it is....

Within minutes of receiving their heaping bowls of cereal and their juice, the 7-year-old starts crying. She's spilled her juice. In true party fashion, the 3-year-old is lapping it up off of the table like a dog.

Just as I throw back my second cup of coffee, there's a chorus of laughter. I enter the living room only to witness the 3-year-old standing topless on the end table. I guess a party's not a party until someone is dancing half-naked on a table.

I set up a show for the kids so I can get cleaned up. Just as I'm about to place a foot into the shower I hear a fight break out. I run downstairs, naked of course, and break up the brawl.

Flashing and fights... this party is epic!

I manage to shower and feel ready to take on the day.

I sit at the kitchen table to color with the girls.

I'm feeling pretty smug at this point. Mom of the year... taking on the day with a stack of paper and markers. The phone rings and I answer it. It's my husband. I make sure to tell him that we're having a fabulous day; I managed to have a shower and we're coloring together!

I hang up the phone and realize that I spoke to soon... the party is getting wild again. My 3-year-old has colored on the table, the walls, herself and her sister. I guess that's another tell-tale sign of a good party... someone ends up with a marker mustache.

Then there's the line for the bathroom. Does everyone at this party have to take a dump at the same time? Oh, and let's not forget the pee on the bathroom floor and the toilet paper that gets stuck to the bottom of your foot. And then there's the age-old question: Do I flush and risk an overflow, or sneak out and risk a situation like this?

As the party goes on, everyone thinks they're funny. The jokes are endless and half of them make no sense.

3-year-old: "Knock, knock?"

Me: "Who's there?"

3-year-old: "Poop."

Me: "Poop who?"

3-year-old: "I pooped on your head! Get it?!"

No... no, I do not get it.

The party wears on. There's more nudity, brawls, jokes, singing and dancing.

Once the party-goers are tucked into bed for the night I look around at my trashed house, pour myself a glass of wine and sit down to watch some TV.

Tomorrow there will be another party. Same time. Same place. Same guests.

I can't wait.

This article first appeared on The Deliberate Mom. Join The Deliberate Mom community on Facebook, follow along on Bloglovin', and let's keep the conversation going on Twitter.