This morning started out rough; I couldn't find my glasses. After crawling on my hands and knees in the LR (I thought they might have fallen off the table next to the sofa) I put the troops to the task. Eventually (a few hours after I woke up) I found them. In the toy box. Of course.
Then it was off to Mom's and the ol' storage unit. Once at storage I discovered the key to the new lock wasn't working. And the office was closed. No problem, I just applied a little elbow grease, strained a muscle in my weak forearm and popped the sucker open. I felt like a She-Rah when I picked up a dresser all by my lonesome and plopped that bad boy into the trunk of the van. Solid oak that little bad boy was. 4 drawer with a changing table on top... but I licked the sucker.
Then off to the store. #2 had to go #2 so we stopped at the grocery store. When we got inside I realized I left my money envelope from the bank in the car so we ran back out to get it, then made a mad dash for the toilets. OUT OF ORDER. You've got to be kidding me! I got the kids out to the van (brimming with stuff from storage to put in the weekend's yard sale, hardly any room for the kids to get to their seats), buckled the critters in and took off for the next closest public restroom. Traffic was a nightmare and it took my 3 minutes to pull out onto the road... poor #2's eyes were starting to float! As soon as we got to the next store down the road we hopped out, ran to the doors, ran back to the car to get my purse, ran into the store, all the way to the BACK, into the toilets and #1 tried to budge in front of #2. I stopped her in her tracks, pants around her ankles and plopped #2 up onto the seat. We all did the rounds and I realized I'd left that dratted money envelope on the front seat of the car with my cell phone! We didn't even wash our hands, rather we RINSED them and raced back to the car.
Phew! The money was still there. OK, we headed back into the store for a few things and 45 minutes later were cashing out. Yes, forty five minutes! The amount of time I spend in stores chasing my kids and turning around to make sure they're still traveling with the herd makes me sick--like ball of dread in your stomach, feel like you're going to wretch kind of sick. After I rounded up the troops, put all of my stuff in the car, buckled the kids and returned my shopping cart to the store I realized that my keys were missing. After I'd dumped the contents of my surprisingly full purse onto the seat of the car I took note that my keys were, in fact, still missing. I just got the car yesterday. The keys are already missing. NICE.
We paraded back into the store, filled with incompetent staff who were very frustrated that I interrupted them to inquire if anyone had found my keys. Peeved that I'd asked, one woman rolled her strung out eyes at me and shook her stringy mop of hair, "Enh. Ugh." She kept squeaking out these whiny little sounds that made me think of how my daughter reacts when I tell her that her shoes are on the wrong feet. Apparently this lady didn't know that whiny noises are one of my biggest pet peeves. "Listen, they would have turned my keys in to you in the past half hour, you've got nothing?" She shrugged her shoulders, "Uh, I don't think so...? Nobody brought anything to me..."
My patience worn, I set off on foot, toddler on hip with two shopping-weary sets of sandals dragging behind me. After an hour of combing the store, the parking lot and the car I eventually found the keys in a bag of Gerber diced strawberries and bananas tucked in the back pocket of the diaper bag. That's after I checked the garbage bags. Afer I followed the trail of little bits and pieces of paper, gum wrappers and hairbands that Little One had littered about the store while pawing through my purse. Yeah, it was about 20 minutes after I realized that I was physically shaking with frustration, and angry at myself for not putting the keys in my pocket.
I got home at 7:30 and still had to cook dinner for my kids who should be in bed no later than 8. Bedtime stories done, I settled in on the sofa to unwind a little and do nothing for a few minutes. And the phone rang. Mom was choking back tears. Dad was in the hospital. Nausea, abdominal cramping, vomiting and chest pains after a simple outpatient procedure this morning.
Here I sit, typing, unable to sleep and I am sooo tired. It's hot. I probably stink. Just the sound of the air conditioner is enough to stress me out though. I feel as though every nerve in my body is standing on edge. My mind is cloudy but the stresses of the day have taken their toll on me. Just knowing that I have laundry to do, dinner dishes that I haven't washed and a worried mom, sitting at my dad's bedside fearing the worst has me taxed. I had a long day. Tomorrow promises to be long. The hour long drive to my folks' place strains my feeble brain when I don't have someone to talk to. I think too much and it drains me. I think about how great-grandma is in town and somebody needs to entertain her and my baby brother if Dad's still in the hospital. I think about how somebody needs to take Mom some real food. Somebody needs to distract her. I think about Dad, hoping and praying that he's okay. I think about my kids and how I'm going to take care of them and take care of everyone else and take care of my house all at the same time. And I think about how sometimes I just feel so inadequate as a mom, a wife, a daughter, a woman. And then I tell myself, "It's just because you're tired. Get some sleep and get your mind back on track. Tomorrow is another day to try and be a She-Rah."
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