You guys, my chakras aren’t aligned or something. Perhaps I’ve got some bad chi. I don’t know. I’m really not a spiritual person but I have to tell you that something is just plain OFF with me this week.
It’s been one of those weeks where you hit a shopping cart on your way out of the Wal-mart parking lot because it’s in your blind spot.
It’s been one of those weeks where you finally get both kids down for a nap. And you get yourself all prepared to doze off to get rid of a pounding headache when you hear a little voice say “Mom, I have to poop.” When you take your little man to the restroom he speaks so loudly that he wakes up his little brother in the next room. So much for the naps and getting rid of the headache.
It’s been the kind of week where you get disturbing news about the husband of one of your closest friends. You know what you would do if you were in her shoes but you suspect she doesn’t have the guts.
It’s been the kind of week where you break your neck to get home from running errands in order to meet the granite guy for his follow up installation inspection. And he turns up 2 1/2 hours late! You didn’t go to the gas station because you didn’t want him to sit in front of your home waiting for you. But it doesn’t matter cause he’s LATE! You have to put gas in the truck before you pick up your son from preschool because you know don’t have enough fuel to make it there. And because your youngest son was napping you’re late leaving the house, you get stuck in four freaking school zones on the way to the gas station and you, therefore, pick up your preschooler really late. You feel like a bad mom.
It’s been the kind of week in which the cute mug you said you would buy for your friend breaks in the mail. Snap! The handle broke off on her adorable mug. It was the last one on the shelf at the Disney Emporium. Fabulous…. just fabulous.
It’s been the kind of week where your youngest son is teething so bad that he doesn’t want to eat. Instead he squirrels food away in his cheeks until you put him down on the floor. Then he spits out the half-chewed mess of spaghetti and green beans all over your carpet. After you clean him up, scrub the floor, sanitize the highchair, pre-treat the stains on his t-shirt, and rescue your son from a precarious position in which he is dangling from the wood-blinds, you sit down to eat your now cold fried egg sandwich. Yuck!
It’s the kind of week where you stub your toe and it chips your toenail polish.
It’s the kind of week in which you argue with your husband about whether or not he said he wanted fruit salad for dinner.
It’s the kind of week where your best friend leaves a message on your answering machine telling you she’s sorry she forgot your birthday.
It’s the kind of week where Blockbuster sends you a notice that you didn’t return a movie that you know you specifically remember returning. When you talk to the teenager at the store he kind of blows you off and says he’ll look harder and that he’ll call you back if he doesn’t find it. You haven’t heard back but you suspect that he didn’t even look.
It’s been the kind of week where old ladies let door slam into your stroller instead of holding it open for you.
It’s been the kind of week where the bathing suit you bought (but didn’t try on because the kids were acting crazy) has to be returned. Some moron put an extra small top with a large bottom on the same hanger. Sweet. You dread running more errands.
It’s the kind of week where you can’t wait for your husband to get home from work because you youngest son just caught a 20-minute power nap and is now screaming in his room instead of sleeping for 3 hours like he normally does…
Enough run-on sentences. Enough griping. I’m going to pray that this weekend is better…
Adventures of Four 