It's been one of those days. You know the kind, the ones that leave your gasping for breath and wondering why you aren't bald from the stress. So it started like this: I went to work at 4:30 (yes that is a.m.) on 3 1/2 hours of sleep. I work part time in the bakery of our local grocery store, and really, I love the job, I just hate the hours. Problem: I'm a night owl. I work early mornings. Not a good combination.
So, I check out at 8:37 and get in the car to call my husband to be sure he's got the kids up so they can go to Boys and Girls club. Conversation starts like this:
Me: Good Morning! How are you doing?
Hmmmmm. Not such a good response, so I try again.
Me: I'm sorry. What's going on?
Him: You didn't tell me I had to get the kids up.
Oops. Now, technically this isn't true. I did tell him . . . last week. I kind of forgot to remind him and he'd just gotten off working night shift, so wasn't in the best of moods anyway since he was half asleep. My bad. I went home to find him fixing kids' lunches. I rush them off in the car to the club and at the last minute ask, "did Daddy give you your medicine?" (They both have ADD) Of course the answer is a big, fat "NO". I tell them I'll bring it down later (and promptly forget), then rush off to the chiropractic appointment I was 15 minutes late for, and THEN decide to get my hair cut, since I'm not quite ready to go home to a grumpy husband.
After that I could hardly keep my eyes open, so home I go, only to find hubby cleaning house. I was grateful, but feeling a little chastised that he was doing it when I hadn't. We both go to bed at that point, he with the intention of sleeping the day away, and me only wanting an hour and a half to two hour nap.
Four hours later I wake up to the phone ringing. It's two o'clock. The kids are supposed to have therapy at 2:30 and the therapist called to say he was rescheduling. Fine, no problem, except that I'd been planning to write during the day. I'm in the middle of these blasted edits for The Sapphire Flute and have been stuck on chapter 18 for weeks. I get up, dress, grab my laptop and decide to get out of the house for a while so I can avoid the distraction and drama. So where do I go for lunch and quiet writing time at 2:30 in the afternoon?
Pizza Hut. Yep, you read that right. They've got a salad bar, so I get my veggies and don't have to feel guilty for the personal ham and pineapple pizza I gobble down with it. I had almost three hours there by myself, nobody in the restaurant but people doing pick ups and the employees, and with a set of earplugs I'm not even aware of them. So, I finish chapter 18 at long last, (HOORAY!!!) run to the store, pick the kids up from club, run home to find out when Tin-man's baseball game is and read "5:45". Kids fold laundry, very reluctantly because of the lack of meds and constant distraction. In the process, we come to discover that they have NO SOCKS. Thus begins the search for all the dirty socks, which were found in various places in their room: The ledge above the door, the toy baskets under their bed, in the corner, with their various halloween costumes, etc., etc., etc. We finally come up with about 10 pair of dirty socks and they've got a slew of toys and garbage to pick up from the search.
So now they've got to clean their room on top of folding the laundry, which they proceed to do even more reluctantly, with Mom getting increasingly frustrated and waspish. Finally they get it done and it's time for the game. I ask Tin-man to look on the calendar and find out the location. He joins me at the car and tells me "DJ1". I race to the ball field only to find no team, so I call home and ask Birdy to look on the calendar to be sure we're in the right place. He says, "5:45 at Eagle field". It's 7:20 at this point and I'm pulling my hair out wondering what went wrong. I'd looked at it earlier and it had said 7:15 at DJ1, I could have sworn.
So, I tell Birdy to give the calendar and phone to Grandma to double check. She tells me three times the same thing he did, so I finally get a clue and ask her to look at the Tuesday before, the 19th, and tell me what it said there. Of course it said "DJ1 at 7:15". I'd looked on the wrong day and missed Tin-man's game. I felt like a WONDERFUL mother at that point and pouted all the way home.
The evening continued along those lines and right now all I want is a trip up the mountains to stare at the stars, but I'm going to have to settle for the trampoline and my laptop. At least I can breathe the fresh air for a while and get a little more editing done. I'd really like to move on to chapter 21 while I've got some momentum going, but I've got to work again tomorrow and it's almost 10 pm already. *sigh* Another late night, I guess.
Do you ever wonder why more mothers aren't bald?
Quote for the Day: "God has plans for your writing. And believe me, they're better than any plans you have for yourself. Let Him be in charge, and let Him delight you with what He has in store." - Virginia Smith, author of "Just as I Am"