I am waiting, patiently, for it to be all about me. All Jenn’s Day. Jenn-tine’s Day. St. Jenn Day. Inde-Jenn-dence Day. Because I have it figured that it will take having my own day on the calendar for things to get easier.
Starting with my overnight, I went to bed in a timely manner and was just about in an Ambien stupor when my littles both woke with issues. Twice. I should have just stayed up and saved myself the hangover. (However, I did call in to get a refill on the prescription. We’ll try this again some other night.) Then both girls were cranky this morning. Wanted a breakfast that I didn’t have. Out of chocolate milk! The cinnamon toast had raisins! Wah!
So we left the house. Went to the store to get toast and milk. While we were out (and it was midmorning) Ella suggests lunch at McDonalds and play in the park. Capital idea! So I run the milk home and pick up her backpack, hedging my bets that we will be out until preschool and the rest of the day will be cake. They split a chicken nugget happy meal and I order a salad (note to self: check the wind speed before trying to eat an asian chicken salad outdoors…my shirt has a grease spot on the shoulder due to an unexpected gust). They each eat for, oh, 22 seconds and then jump down to play.
“Mommy, I have to go potty.” With 25 minutes to preschool and no bathrooms at the park, I tell Ella that we should drive to school and use their potties and we’ll wait on the bench for school to start. I’m loading in Amelia and she says “Ahhh…I’m all shakey….” and pees on the grass. And down her legs into her socks. Oh! But there’s a change of clothes in her school bag. I stood her up in the back of the van and helped her change. And we’re on our way to school…20 minutes early. But both girls are munching the rest of the happy meal, Ella is sucking down lemonade. “Uh-oh…lemonade….all over my pants…”
So I turn around and head toward home for yet another change of clothes. We are going to be late. On the way there, I have a McDonald’s induced gallbladder attack which causes me to need a bathroom…right…now. Once again I run into the house, use the bathroom and get Ella a change of pants. And an extra set for the school bag. And change her in the driveway. And finally get her to school. I get home with Amelia and get the mail. There’s a letter from her preschool. The director of the preschool (who is to be Ella’s teacher next year) is resigning. Which means that Robyn is also resigning. This is not good.
Amelia takes a nap easily. I text my babysitter to ask her babysit tomorrow afternoon so that I can get a cut and highlight, take boxes to UPS for Lend a Hand Diapers, take deposit cans in and pick up my quarter side of beef. Busy afternoon. Nope. Sitter is busy. I have to wake up Amelia to go and get Ella from school. She is cranky.
So not a great day. It sucked. I felt like I was in a panic all day. I’m exhausted.
But you know, even the worst day now is still better than one year ago today when I found out that I was going to be a widow. It’s really a matter of perspective.