THNGVBD: In which I whine

December 14, 2010 at 5:54 am (Uncategorized)

All my kids slept in this morning and I had to rouse them out of bed, on account of the lateness of my in-laws Christmas celebration over the weekend.
Nobody wanted to drink the smoothie I made for breakfast. They hate raspberry seeds in their teeth, they said.
I had to chase Greta around the Christmas tree to corral her into combing her hair.
It is shaping up to be a terrible horrible no good very bad day, I thought.

After the schoolchildren left, the baby decided she wasn’t going to nap this morning. Until two minutes before noon when I was finally ready to go out and do errands.
I tried to get all my Christmas wrapping done. I hauled out all the presents from their hiding places, coped with a fussy baby, a couple phone calls, and wrapped two books. Then I realized it was time to haul all the unwrapped presents back upstairs before the receivers came home and saw them.
I started panicking that I wasn’t going to get done what I needed to today. I think I’m losing my mind, I said.  I think I need a month’s vacation in Australia.  No one even answered.

Greta came home and peed in front of the coffee table in a sopping carpet puddle.  And then she peed on the carpet in her room.  And later when I went to put her to bed I found a wet spot on her mattress.
I made her peanut butter and Nutella sandwich and cut up apples for lunch like always. She had she doesn’t like green apples.
And my wrists hurt.  Carrying babies and big kids and dishes and groceries and… and… and.   Pushing myself off the floor with my hands makes me wince. Touching my wrist to anything makes me wince. Picking up anything more than a pound makes me wince. So of course picking up my baby makes me wince.

When Mark came home, I left to quickly finish up some Christmas shopping.  On the way home, I sat behind an accident for thirty minutes.
When I came home, Mark had dinner almost ready, but Willa needed to be fed right away.  So I ate it cold.  Again.
Right after dinner Greta started screaming at everything, signaling Bedtime.  But I went into her room and her bed was covered in play kitchen accessories and pee.  And I had just picked all of them up for her yesterday.
I made her pick them all up instead of having a story because she needed to get to bed NOW before we both fell apart and this means I am a Bad Mama.
This really is a terrible horrible no good very bad day, I said. No one even answered.

Before Greta was all the way in bed, Willa started crying, and I went to find my cell phone to put her to bed, and I couldn’t find it anywhere. 
And I couldn’t find my keys. And I had to find my keys, because I’d already borrowed Mark’s set last week and lost those somewhere too.

I freaked out quite a bit.  I hate it when I can’t find my stuff.  And I hate it when my husband watches me look for things, wondering what’s wrong with me.  He doesn’t lose things.  No really, he doesn’t.  I looked and looked and straightened while I looked and made a mess of some other things and started yelling about all the clutter around here and how no one picks up after themselves unless I make them and why is all this responsiblity on me.  And Willa was still crying, wanting to go to bed, but nurse first.  Finally Mark fed her a bottle and I kept looking.
And then I climbed up on the arm of the couch to stuff a bunch of receipts into the shoebox on top of the bookshelf where we keep all our receipts (handy, right?) and I missed my step on the way down and landed on the coffee table.  The one we’ve only owned for six months and that now has a cracked leg and thankfully my own leg isn’t cracked, just badly bruised.

After I fell, Parker got me some boo boo ice and told me “Some days are like this.  Even in Australia.”  [Okay not really.  But he was very sweet and hugged me and told me tomorrow would be better.  I really hope he grows up to be a nurse or a doctor.]

And I found my keys in my skirt I’d worn to the store (where I looked more than once), and the phone in the car after that.

The End


Permalink Leave a Comment