Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Not for the faint of heart.

So today wasn't really a banner day. I know. I am a total complainer, take everything for granted, blah, blah, blah.

Started with "NO, mommy! Go away! Go feed Henry!" at 7:30 this morning, and has approached its finish (?) with a wired kid doped up on prednisone still yelling up in his crib after 9pm.

In between involved:

GET AWAY FROM ME!!! MOMMY DO IT! (repeated 637 times; the irony of my good morning greeting is not lost on me) Shoes on, socks on, getting dressed, getting into carseats, carseats buckled, carseats unbuckled, snack gotten, juice gotten, pick me up. No one but Mommy.

Two forty minute baby naps, and a third that lasted exactly 4 minutes, resulting in a very overtired baby.

Housecleaners were here - yes, I know I sound ungrateful since we can afford to have housecleaners, and a house to clean, but it is my most dreaded day every two weeks. It means we have to leave, so normally, I have to wake Henry up and get three kids out of the house, who ALWAYS want to leave the house, EXCEPT on the days that the cleaners come. "But Mommy, we want to play!", which is only uttered every other Tuesday.

Required morning outing (due to housecleaners): an attempted rendezvous with Cressy and Co., which ended up being a tearful trip to a parking garage, 8 minutes of Ellie telling me that she wanted her juice, 5 minutes of being sure to let me know that she did NOT want to get a picture taken with Santa, 4 happy minutes looking at a fountain, 15 minutes of nursing Henry in a bathroom, and 15 concurrent solid minutes of the Quinn screaming at the top of his lungs, alternately saying, "I want to go home NOW!" and "I don't WANT to go home!", kicking and screaming and hitting me, and throwing himself on the floor in the bathroom. And then 5 minutes of asking me why we didn't get a picture with Santa.

A bottle of wine (just gifted), shattered on the tile kitchen floor when Ellie pulled it off the counter, hoping it was a present for her. (I considered sucking what I could out of my socks)

A new car that has leaked more oil than the Valdez on the street in front of our house.

A 5:50pm doctor's appointment where Quinn was diagnosed with reactive airway disease, as a repeat infection from his last one, only a couple of weeks ago, which has landed him a prescription of prednisone. For those of you who know Quinn, the prednisone causes insomnia. Again, irony not lost. The good news is that it allows him to breathe. 9:38 and still yelling.

What a day. What a DAY.








No comments:

Post a Comment