It started out me rushing to get PTO fundraiser forms out in the mail only to find that after I actually mailed them, two stragglers decided to submit.
I then rushed to the dermatologist only to wait 35 extra minutes to be seen. Once seen, I was told that these "skin color changes" that are all over my face are called a "pregnancy mask". And that would mean what exactly? Apparently it means that I am forever reminded of my two pregnancies (which were hardly a walk in the park) and that some kind of hormonal changes occur when you're with child and are stuck with brown lines around your face for life.
Terrific. The day just keeps getting better.
My 2.5 hours of "ME" time are now wasted due to the doc so I race home, check an email, pee and rush off to get Youngest. The kid looks like he is ready to crash as I think about my catching up on Brothers and Sisters on DVR while he naps.
30 minutes passes and I'm barely through the first commercial. "Mommy! MOMMY! I'm not sleepy today. MOMMY, DO YOU HEAR ME?!!"
I will have to wait to see Ally McBeal's bald head until later (she will always be Ally to me)
Kid's happy until big brother comes home and taunts him with his magnetic blocks. They argue. They whine. They scream and yell. Oh wait, that was me.
You get the picture.
Occupational Therapist comes to whisk oldest away for 50 minutes and finally I can sit down in peace.
"Mommy. Mommy. Come watch Dora with me? Mommy will you play a game with me?"
Okay, the kid's 4. I get it. I'm his Mother. This is my job. But when do I get to fake sick and take the day off?
OT ends. We start back up to where we left off. Whining, arguing..yada yada
Time to pick up husband from the train (you cant believe the cost of parking at the train these days. Weekly fees add up. We live 30 seconds from the stop, I cant complain)
However, I do. Because I'm good at it.
I dont complain about picking him up but I do complain about the rotary at that hour. People are lunatics. They literally run off the train, get into their cars, barely looking both ways before screeching out to beat the car behind them. I get to the rotary and feel the pressure. The cars are building up behind me and I know the jackass behind me has his hand on the horn just ready to curse me out. I make my move and HONKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
and shit...I cut a car off and am forced to go onto the highway (as opposed to halfway around the rotary to our house)
"Mommy. Mommy. Why are you going this way Mommy?"
Husband knows better then to comment.
I drive to the next exit only to get stuck at the traffic light. Stuck. Waiting. Apparently light is broken. After 10 minutes car decides to make a "left on red" and we wait our turn. I make my move (thinking that I'm bound to be the one pulled over by the cop) I make it, seconds later...the light turns green.
And then the day ended with of course a fight with youngest over...yes, you guessed it...POOP! (good to know you are following along)
Score:
4 year old- ONE
Mommy- ZERO
I then rushed to the dermatologist only to wait 35 extra minutes to be seen. Once seen, I was told that these "skin color changes" that are all over my face are called a "pregnancy mask". And that would mean what exactly? Apparently it means that I am forever reminded of my two pregnancies (which were hardly a walk in the park) and that some kind of hormonal changes occur when you're with child and are stuck with brown lines around your face for life.
Terrific. The day just keeps getting better.
My 2.5 hours of "ME" time are now wasted due to the doc so I race home, check an email, pee and rush off to get Youngest. The kid looks like he is ready to crash as I think about my catching up on Brothers and Sisters on DVR while he naps.
30 minutes passes and I'm barely through the first commercial. "Mommy! MOMMY! I'm not sleepy today. MOMMY, DO YOU HEAR ME?!!"
I will have to wait to see Ally McBeal's bald head until later (she will always be Ally to me)
Kid's happy until big brother comes home and taunts him with his magnetic blocks. They argue. They whine. They scream and yell. Oh wait, that was me.
You get the picture.
Occupational Therapist comes to whisk oldest away for 50 minutes and finally I can sit down in peace.
"Mommy. Mommy. Come watch Dora with me? Mommy will you play a game with me?"
Okay, the kid's 4. I get it. I'm his Mother. This is my job. But when do I get to fake sick and take the day off?
OT ends. We start back up to where we left off. Whining, arguing..yada yada
Time to pick up husband from the train (you cant believe the cost of parking at the train these days. Weekly fees add up. We live 30 seconds from the stop, I cant complain)
However, I do. Because I'm good at it.
I dont complain about picking him up but I do complain about the rotary at that hour. People are lunatics. They literally run off the train, get into their cars, barely looking both ways before screeching out to beat the car behind them. I get to the rotary and feel the pressure. The cars are building up behind me and I know the jackass behind me has his hand on the horn just ready to curse me out. I make my move and HONKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
and shit...I cut a car off and am forced to go onto the highway (as opposed to halfway around the rotary to our house)
"Mommy. Mommy. Why are you going this way Mommy?"
Husband knows better then to comment.
I drive to the next exit only to get stuck at the traffic light. Stuck. Waiting. Apparently light is broken. After 10 minutes car decides to make a "left on red" and we wait our turn. I make my move (thinking that I'm bound to be the one pulled over by the cop) I make it, seconds later...the light turns green.
And then the day ended with of course a fight with youngest over...yes, you guessed it...POOP! (good to know you are following along)
Score:
4 year old- ONE
Mommy- ZERO
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