One of THOSE Days

When reading the title of this post, make sure to say THOSE with that lilt in your voice. You know the one...you tend to use it with nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Okay, moving on....

I will be the first to admit that large number of my days are THOSE days. I am not ashamed to admit it. But even for me, in the twisted little world I live in, it was one of THOSE days.

It's Saturday. I went to bed last night with the intention of sleeping in. I never get to sleep in...never, ever, never, ever to infinity plus one (I win). I should have recognized the signs right away. The first and most obvious sign, was that everyone went to bed, on time AND without a fight...that signals DOOMSDAY in the biggest way imaginable. Why I didn't pick up on it, I will never know. My guess, I would too tired to recognize the signs...that is how much I wanted to sleep. In fact, it was so obvious, that if it were 20 feet tall in my living room, smoking a cigar while dancing a jig, it couldn't have been more obvious than it already was. Well, now that I feel I have made my point I can continue knowing that I got at least one thing right today.

So as we all tried to softly drift into a night of peaceful, dreamless sleep...Caleb popped in at about 10:30 scared out of his mind. After an hour of calming him down we both settled back in at around 11:30. At 12:30, the first nightmare hit. At 2:30, it was about time for Caleb to have a potty break. At 5:30, well, who knows...I was just awake...splendid. So my plan for sleeping in was thwarted by the three year olds imagination and bladder. Okey dokey.

At 7:30 I decided I should go to the store. Why? Well, I don't know about your house, but at mine, when every body wakes, they have all developed this strange habit of needing to 'use the facilities'. And since I was out of toilet paper, I could see the DOOM spelled out. Since Baylee was up, I figured she could go with me. It had been a bit of a difficult week for the two of us, and I was hoping to show her that on some level, we still liked each other.

Off we went. We had a perfectly lovely time buying toilet paper and paper towels and all of the good things that families are founded on. She had a few bucks, so she did her own bit of shopping. We checked out and headed to the car, at which point she decided that she wanted a drink. Ummmmm, no. I had already paid, and there was NO WAY I was getting back in line. So instead, I was the proud recipient of the tantrum of the century all the way home. It was SO fun...you should all be jealous. By the time we got home, she had earned 20 minutes in time out. Probably a good thing....I think she has become accustomed to breathing. So off to time out she went. After fifteen good solid minutes of screaming about being thirsty, I finally chucked a bottle of water her way. And her response? Just know that this is a true story. Her response was, "I wanted ice." You have got to be kidding me. Seriously, I can't make this stuff up...even with my imagination, I am NOT that good.

As soon as the ice comment hit, Savannah was all over me about taking her to the store, because how dare I play favorites...because that it was I always do. My children haven't clued in to the fact, that everything I do is actually an extreme right wing conspiracy. So off to the store we go. We head to Target first, because she is sure that the exact pen she wants is there. And after 20 minutes of looking, checking with a Target employee and calling the friend that had the pen...we tripped upon the discovery, that Target does not carry that. But Justice does. Too bad Justice doesn't open for another 30 minutes. But lucky, lucky me I was treated to the explanation that all bad things in the world are my fault. I am glad she told me, I didn't know.

Once we got home, Noah had a coniption fit about not getting a turn to the store. Of course. Why not...that is all I had planned for the day...shopping....for nothing....with crabby children.

I struck a bargain with them and said if they hurried and got their chores done, we could take more trip out. Felix had to head to work to fix a problem, so I was left to enjoy the crabbiness that had eeked in to every pore.

They started their chores. Too bad they weren't as excited about finishing. They were really good about getting going...unfortunately, Caleb decided at about this time he was a high flying trapeze monkey ninja. After a series of 'Hiyahs' and assorted kicks and punches into thin air, he started tackling Savannah and Baylee who were absolutely thrilled by the attention. So thrilled in fact, that they spent thirty minutes screaming about how nothing ever got done around the house unless they did it, and had to deal with Caleb ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Somewhere around here Caleb started calling everybody a stupid punk, holding up his fists and telling them to bring it on. Too bad for him, they did. The brawl was somewhat reminiscent of the fights in Bugs Bunny cartoons, where all you can see is an occasional limb and a big dust cloud.

Finally, everyone settled down. They finished up the bare minimum and off to the store we went. First to Justice. I believe we were in the store a whole 30 seconds when Felix called to say he was done. And folks, I am not as stupid as I look. I called for reinforcements. While he was on his way, Caleb decided that this was the perfect time to have a POOPY attack. We find the bathroom and the apathetic pooper took FOR-EV-ER. By the time he was done, Felix was at the store. He took the boys, I perused with the girls.

Okay...I am seriously not a fan of shopping. Going with two girls who LOVE it, was slightly excrutiating. HATED IT. But they had a good time. Once finished, I called Felix and found out they were at the game store...headed over. Arrived just in time to stop the travesty of a 3 game purchase...I don't think so. When chores start getting done without fighting, I am all about new games...not before.

Then of course, we have to stop back at Felixs' office to get something that had been overlooked. Hurrying as quickly as possible, we got home (barely) since Caleb decided to unbuckle and hide in the car, which nearly gave us all panic attacks. Caleb was so mad at us for being mad at him, he put himself in bed and took a nap. Works for me.

We settled in for a movie and left the children to join us to go do their own thing. After a while, a few friends came over and the chaos ensued. I'm still not quite sure how many marshmallows and gallons of hot chocolate were sacrified to destroy my kitchen. They are martyrs for their cause....

Once the movie was over, I just wasn't hungry. Which usually means I am not cooking. Sorry to the rest of the family...you are ON YOUR OWN. I headed up to chill for a bit. Then Caleb decided that he needed a bath...and he was right. That went really smoothly. It is nice to know that kind of thing can still happen. After his bath Caleb was hungry, and YAY Noah offered to make him a sandwich for dinner.

After about 15 minutes, Caleb came up with a plate full of Nilla Wafers and whipped cream. I didn't want to know. I really didn't. So for as long as I possibly could...I went to that little safe place in my head and pretended like everything was okay. Then I realized that I had to go and put another load of laundry in. Bah humbug.

I made almost all the way down the stairs. ALMOST. I was so close, I could taste it. Really. Because there was whipped cream all over the floor. In order to go an get the mop to clean the mess I had to wade through the sticky goo. I had a major dejavu moment of going to a very old, very not clean movie theater. We have all been there at one point or another...the one that has 10 years of sticky on it. And in order to take a step you have to assist your legs with your hands in order to pull your feet of the floor.

Then I get to clean the floor. It was 9 o'clock and I didn't have anything better to do. Then I found the hot chocolate spill that was left to blend in to the background of the granite countertop. Picking a black counter really has it perks...this wasn't one of them. It hides WAY too much. So off to clean the spill. Which of course sets off my OCD tendency and then I have to clean the entire kitchen and mop the kitchen, living room and entry. YAY ME.

So that comes to really close to now. I was so irritated that I tried to play the piano. And my James Bond was way meaner than it should have been. So I decided to get it all out and write it on a blog entry. And you know what. I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, feel better. Thanks for listening...or reading or whatever. But I do have good news. The kids are very anti-going to bed...it may be a good night after all.

Lessons Learned
1. When I get mad, I get REALLY, REALLY mad...I need to do a better job of emoting so that it all balances out better.
2. When I get mad, my kitchen gets REALLY, REALLY clean...maybe I shouldn't do a better job of emoting...my house would at least get clean.
3. When I get mad, my kids think it is REALLY, REALLY funny...am I doing it wrong?
4. When I get mad, it doesn't take to long before I feel REALLY, REALLY guilty...now I know I am doing it wrong.
5. When I get mad, I get REALLY, REALLY tired...which is how this whole mess started in the first place.