Jan 09 2009
I Need A Drink
It has been one of those days…
Today started off well. We went over to my friend’s house and Bug and Bean played with her boys. We had breakfast, went for a walk, and made lunch. The only thing that was a little annoying was that Bug, for the 4th time this week, pooped in his pants. Why he is pooping in his pants, I do not know, but I do know that it is incredibly frustrating.
Around 2pm, the kids were melting down, and it was time to go. I stepped on to the front porch, glanced at my car, and saw that one of my rear tires was flat. Sweet. I backed it into their garage where Dani and I (oh, and did I mention she’s 5 months pregnant) hoisted my car up on a jack to install the spare. Annoying, but doable. As it turned out, the spare was also flat. Double sweet.
So, I loaded my original flat tire and the spare tire into Dani’s car, and took Bean along with me too, leaving Bug to play with the boys a little longer. The idea was for Bean to nap while my tires were getting fixed. Unless you consider the minute doze-off session before we pulled into Les Schwab Tire a “nap” she didn’t get one.
Instead of napping, my lovely little Bean decided to run around Les Schwab. Not a super big deal normally, but today my body decided to doll out some awesome “morning” sickness. (I put “morning” in quotes because that’s pretty much a joke. It’s “all day” sickness, ask any pregnant woman.) So, I’m trying to keep Bean entertained, but still safe inside the tire place, while fighting the urge to vomit.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been to, or heard of Les Schwab, but they offer free popcorn and beverages while you wait. Super awesome, right? Well, not when your curious little Bean decides to pick up every single piece of popcorn dropped on the floor and try to stick it in her mouth. To make things even more challenging, these people showed up with their dog, not a seeing eye dog, mind you, just a normal ‘ol pet. Bean, being the animal lover she is, kept trying to venture over to the dog, whose owner informed me that her dog doesn’t do well with kids. Okay, understandable, and thank you for letting me know, but seriously. Why did you have to bring your damn dog in here? Argh.
Okay, an hour later, the spare is refilled and the Les Schwab guy tells me the other tire is toast, which means we have to replace all of our tires. Whatever, I just want to get home.
I head back to Dani’s, put the spare on (who says girls can’t change a flat?), and wrangle my kids up once again. Bug has pooped. In his pants. Again. I nearly lost my mind. I swiftly, and not very nicely, got him cleaned up and pants back on, though this time with no underwear because he used up the spare pair I had brought.
No big deal, I thought, we’re just going home anyway. And loaded the kids in the car.
On the drive home, I thought, Man, I need a drink.
I’m not an alcoholic, but if you have ever raised a toddler/preschooler/any child, you know what I mean when I tell you it was “one of those days.” Obviously, in my prenatal state, I cannot divulge in a lovely Vodka Collins (heavy on the Vodka, light on the Collins). Instead, I decided to treat myself to some of my favorite foods.
First, I called the pizza place to order a garlic chicken ranch pizza. No one in the house likes it, but today I don’t give a crap.
Second, I headed to the grocery store for some sparkling apple cider and Ferrero Rocher chocolates. The drive had put my patience level a bit higher, so I told Bug he could walk next to the cart, so long as he promised to listen to me. Remember how he wasn’t wearing underwear? Yeah, so he was skipping around the grocery store, mooning anyone who happened to be behind him. Once I realized it, I made him stay in the cart.
At the checkout, the people in front of us took for freaking ever to check out. They used three different forms of payment, couldn’t find a debit card at first, had to go find it… I was about to lose my mind again. I took my pseudo-death stare off of the dumbasses in front of me, just in time to see Bug pull his pants all the way down to his ankles.
You know, because the grocery store, including the little old lady behind us, really needed to see Bug’s junk today.
Come on. Can a girl get a break here?!
I fed the kids, Turk came home, and I passed out on the couch at about 6:30 until I woke up to the kids screaming at eachother, or me, or somebody, it didn’t matter who. I changed them into their pajamas and shipped them off to bed, Turk took care of the rest.
Tomorrow will be so much better. It has to be, right?
