Wednesday, it was wild.
Up at 5:30 a.m. for cycle class. Love cycle. Love my cycle shoes. They make me feel like the bionic woman.
Back a little after 7 a.m. Kate is not screaming. Mistakenly think this bodes well.
Use my new shampoo in the shower. Don’t you love using your new stuff? I get a shower high when I break out a new shampoo or body wash or Skintimate. Ahhh…
Okay, after I am scrubbed and clean, I think I might be able to eat breakfast alone because – epps! – Kate is still sleeping. Then Belle barks loud enough to wake up the entirety of Vienna. Kate cries. Take deep breaths lest I commit an adult-sized tantrum.
Get Kate, select a wacky floral-print shirt, feed her another frozen waffle. Decide to continue this frozen waffle thing for as long as it works. Why fix something that isn’t broken, I almost never day but am going to start saying today.
Fix myself blueberries and Cherrios and read the advice columns in the paper. I love reading advice columns. If I am feeling frustrated with my life, all I have to do is read an advice column, and I think to myself, “self, aren’t you lucky your best friend isn’t sleeping with my third cousin twice removed/brother-in-laws former roommate who also happens to be my maternal aunt’s boss. I truly lead a fortunate life.”
Unload the dishwasher and try to keep Kate from tossing all the clean silverware on the floor. Decide today will require heaps of coffee because the To Do list keeps getting longer.
Hastily get ready to attack the morning. I need to meet a Vienna Mom to notarize a document for her. What? You did not know I was a notary? Yep, it’s just another cool thing about me. I am over 18, English is my first language, and I have never ever been convicted of a felony. Therefore, I made an excellent candidate for the position of notary. Why did I become a notary, you ask? One day I woke up and thought, “I am going to get my notary license.” Really, I did. There was this woman at one of my old places of employment, and she was a notary. It came in all sorts of handy, so I decided to be one too. Plus, I thought it sounded fun. And it has come in handy, especially in times like these where I can help out a fellow mom so she does not have to schelp her two young kids to the bank and pay for some teller to sign a document.
So we did that and then popped over to Safeway. I use Evernote to keep track of my list and this time remembered to print it out before I left home. That is a win right there, people. And I remembered my wallet, unlike five recently trips where I realized all I had to pay for my large cart of groceries was either a) my first born child or b) a ziplock bag of goldfish crackers.
Since I had my act together today, I thought, hey, Wednesday, I am all over you like white on rice. Look at me, getting things done, crossing things off my To Do list, being a good notarizing neighbor.
Things pretty much went downhill from here.
I was That Mom whose kid screams at the store and everyone looks at me like “please, get your kid under control.” That was me. I broke into the animal crackers and kept stuffing them in Kate’s fat little hands and begging her to just give Mommy a few more minutes and Daddy will buy you a pony AND an iPhone. Well, Kate really did not care what wares I had to offer, so I just had to suck it up and brace myself through the checkout.
At home, her tirade continued. She screamed and fussed and wailed while I put the food away. So I sat Little Miss Cranky Pants in her highchair for lunch, and she proceeded to feed 90% of the lunch to Belle. Belle, really, you need to watch those extra calories. Kate probably feeds Belle at least double the amount of calories in her dog food.
Seeing as lunch went really well, I knew naptime would be no problem. SARCASM!
She slept maybe 45 minutes before letting me know she was awake with her blood curdling screams. And this point, Mommy reached her wall. When the ringing sound of screaming toddler won’t let go of my ear drum, I know I am done for.
So I get her up, becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of ability I have to get anything done. At this point I am thinking it is probably easier to work 50, 60, 70 hours a week than be home with Kate. At least at a place of employment, coworkers don’t sit on your lap, pound on your keyboard, throw Cherrios around your workspace, follow you to the bathroom, and scream and hit you in the face as you try to reason with them.
Get Kate from her nap, start work on preparing cookie dough for cookies to bake Thursday and get dinner going. Kate screams. New Laurie Notaro book arrives. Momentary glee. Kate screams. Try to check email. Kate screams. Clean up Kate’s destruction. Kate screams. Ringing sound in the ears gets louder. Kate screams.
And so it goes from 1:30 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. until we take a walk and the screaming temporarily stops. Get home and finish dinner. Kate screams. Eat dinner. Kate screams. Get excited to leave to attend the Vienna Mom’s Night Out event. Kate screams.
At this point, I start seeing spots. And I realize those spots are auras. As in I am about to get a major migraine. The type of debilitating migraine where words swirl on pages, light spots cut out pieces of my vision, sounds pierce, nausea comes on like a wave. I try to forge ahead even though I know I am playing in the Danger Zone. Try to get my hair done and get myself dressed, but the sharp pain between my eyes tells me I am a goner.
Proceed to fall asleep at 7:30 p.m.
But at least my today went better than some of those advice column people. And Thursday is a new day.
Observations: I like capturing the different points in my day. And I don’t mind rolling with the good and the bad. That is my day, my week. Good and bad. Keeping it real.