Yes, I know that life is not just about winning. But it shouldn't be all about losing either. Behold today:
"Keira, are you ready to go to preschool?"
"No mommy, I'm too sick. And I miss you. "
She does indeed have a cold, as do I. And she definitely knows how to butter her mama up.
"Okay, no preschool. But that means you need to watch a movie quietly during mommy's morning conference call, okay sweetie? Then we'll play."
Instead, during the conference call, in true toddler style, she:
- puts a dishtowel over her face to play "married" and promptly walks into a wall. Hard. Needs mega soothing.
- tries to fling my iPhone over the banister
- dismantles everything in the family room, hurricane style
- dumps a very full garbage can into the middle of the hurricane
- poops her pants and smears it everywhere while squirming out of my "too cold" hands
- selects an Almond Joy from her Halloween bucket, then chews it up and spits it on the carpet
- voluntarily gets a paper towel to "clean it up," which means vigorously grinding the chocolate mess further into the carpet (she does get points for trying to clean up after herself without being asked)
- desperately needs a ham sandwich right now, even though it's been 45 minutes since breakfast
- has absolutely no interest in the movie while I'm on the call
- has absolutely no interest in me once I'm off the call; wants to watch the movie instead
So, right after hanging up and cleaning up, I devour three fun-size candy bars out of Keira's Halloween bucket, even though I've been off sugar since June. My excuse: must make sure there are NO more Almond Joys left to tempt Keira next time.
Then it's lunchtime, at least for me, who did not eat a ham sandwich at 9:30 a.m.
We both need to get out of the house, even though we're both still in our pajamas. So I make a beeline to the local Kneaders (a divine bakery with a drive-thru) to order lunch, intent on consuming the largest cinnamon roll in sight. Because if I'm eating sugar today, I might as well EAT SUGAR.
As I try to order, Keira wails at supersonic levels when her window is UP. But every time I roll it DOWN, she leans forward and shouts her own preferences at the intercom. I say, "One turkey sandwich" at the same time as she says "I need a Spriiiite!" in a perfect imitation of my drive-thru ordering voice. I roll her window up so the clerk can hear me, but then her screaming drowns me out. (I'm indulging her more, see, because she's sick.) I try to laugh about my predicament to the teenager on duty, but she doesn't care.
Eventually, I get the order across. I opt for a bowl of warm, comforting, tomato-basil soup instead of that cinnamon roll. I mentally pat myself on the back as I pull away from the restaurant. Way to go, Angie!
About a half a mile later, an individual in a compact car somehow fails to notice the half-ton truck (me) driving at the speed limit (45 mph) in the proper lane. The car pulls out in front of me, apparently without having glanced at the road at all, and I have to slam on my breaks so hard that my seatbelts lock up. And my treasured tomato soup goes flying.
It smells heavenly as it oozes onto the floormat.
As does the warm buttery roll that Keira is shredding in the backseat.
I mentally curse, then I square my shoulders and drive on, looking forward to cleaning up the 4th disgusting mess of the day.
No cinnamon roll. No tomato soup. Only a tiny shred of sanity left, and 5 hours to go before daddy is home.
How was your day?
#yesitcouldbeworse #firstworldproblems #gratefulformylife #nocheesewithmywhine #tongueincheek #tinyviolins