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Today is just tomorrow’s yesterday…

June 4, 2013

Yesterday was “one of those” days that are intrinsically comical on the outside looking in, but take a deep breath and a glass of wine to see any funny from the inside.

Yesterday started out as any other Monday.  I set my alarm to get up early and walk before work and snoozed it a couple times for no good reason other than I was enjoying my sleep and Chris fed the little monkey who always get up with the chickens, so take advantage, right?

It’s the little things.  They all add up.  I went upstairs to get the littlest monkey out of the crib that is still tenuously holding him in and everything was wet from his animal need to be naked and remove both his pajama pants and his diaper (time to bust out the duct tape) and I had to strip the bed.  I brought him downstairs for breakfast and Monkey #1 had pulled all of her books off her book shelf.  We are big on books around here, so no small undertaking.  Struggle with said monkey to get them back on the shelf because it is housekeeper day.   By struggle, I mean, half wrestle small human into letting go of books, half wrestle said books back onto shelf, half wrestle small human into assisting with book replacement.  Wait, that is too many halfs.  I put Monkey #2 in his chair with a cereal bar and a banana and got in the shower.  I quickly exited the shower to the screams of “more, nann-O, Mommy! More chreeebo-bar!”  Enter Banana #2 and cereal bar #2.  I will pay for that second banana later, I thought to myself, no maybe, Mrs. Leslie will pay for it before I pick him up this afternoon.

After changing my clothes once because I failed to remove the lingerings of bananas #1 and #2 from his chubby baby, man hands and throwing the weirdest amalgam of edible things into a lunch bag for lunch, I was off to work.  I don’t know what to say about mornings at our house except that, with having six weeks off and this being my first Monday back to work, I am seriously out of practice.

My work day was uneventful.  Blissfully, quietly, uneventful.  I quietly ate my avocado, hard boiled egg, pear, and cheese stick and did my thing.  Then I got in the car.

One hour and fifteen minutes later I completed the normally twenty-five minute trip from my workplace to daycare due to road closings and traffic messes and general frustration.  At least I got more time with my current audiobook, right?

Re-enter my monkees.  When I picked them up from Daycare there were excited announcements of “ I am not a poopy-pants, Mommy.  I pooped in the potty!”  Yay!  Let’s celebrate.  I had promised ice cream and ice cream I delivered.  I have the two sweetest most entertaining children on the planet but last night they were more than I could handle.  Where did these loud, spitting, crawling, fit-throwing things come from and WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN?  And I fed them ice cream.  My kids don’t get much sugar.  My kids actually get very little sugar.  That is to say, when my kids get sugar, they FEEL the sugar.  Between the very late daycare pick-up, the ice cream, the balloon man at the ice cream restaurant, and the very loud and raucous singing on the way home, by the time we hit the door, I was racing against time to get them settled in the bed before the crash.

I almost made it.  When I had gotten Tenzing upstairs, gotten his diaper changed and pajamas on and started getting toothbrushes ready, I noticed Amelia downstairs in the living room, curled under her fuzzy red blanket and knew it was too late.

Bring on the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Ah well, in my best Scarlet frame of mind, tomorrow is another day!

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