Seriously?

Let me start off by saying that I am truly blessed. No matter what our economy looks like right now I am still one of the middle class in one of the wealthiest nations on earth. I have never really wondered where my next meal would come from. I have a wonderful (strange, but wonderful) family who love me very much. I am in a very loving, committed marriage with a man whose faith I admire. I really don't have much to complain about.

That being said, I really just want to go back to bed and start today over...surely this is a bad dream. I woke up with the tentacles of a migraine beginning to creep around my brain. I thought I was doing well to get both kids in the car in plenty of time to drop Katherine off at preschool having remembered the fruit I had to take since it is my week for snack, and her lunch since she had lunch-and-learn after school today. Then my wonderful husband (not being sarcastic there) came out to tell us goodbye since he was leaving before Katherine got home and won't be back until tomorrow. Somehow when going over schedules for the next couple of days as we buckled the kids in we had a disagreement and ended up leaving with hurt feelings when I won't see him for at least 36 hours.

Back home with Jack for the morning, he slept for a mere 25 minutes during his morning nap time...grrr. He finally fell asleep for another hour or so, but only in my lap and I had to wake him up to go pick Katherine up. Since he was in my lap asleep I didn't get lunch (not good for the migraine). I actually remembered the DVD I had to return to Blockbuster and the school picture order form I had to turn in today (and my checkbook so I could write a check for said school pictures). We dropped off the DVD and went through the drive-thru at Wendy's so I could finally get lunch (not very healthy, but close and convenient). Katherine asks to finish her sandwich in the car on the way back.

We pull into the driveway and I go open the door to find that the dog has upturned the kitchen garbage, strewn everything all over the kitchen, and eaten half a loaf of bread. Wonderful. So, into his crate he goes.

I go back to get the kids and realize Katherine has thrown the crusts from her sandwich on the floor of the van and dropped her big girl water bottle (no valve like sippy cups so leaks when on its side on the floor) onto the floor as well. Excellent.

I sent Katherine directly upstairs to bed since it was naptime anyway. She starts what eventually turns into an hour-long fit. She is in her room crying/screaming and I have to set Jack down so that I can clean up the kitchen so he is crying. So, I am on my hands and knees cleaning up garbage as both kids cry in different rooms and the dog stares forlornly from his crate. Sweet. This is so much fun!

Eventually Katherine went to sleep (after an hour of screaming, arguing, and bargaining) and even Jack slept for about an hour (by himself in bed!). I got to replay the hilarity of the day with my husband and blog my frustration out!

The rest of the day will be cake, right?