coffee with milk because we are out of half-and-half.
start a grocery and errand list
there’s too much on the list. try to figure out how to fit it all into the day. decide it probably won’t all get done, but you are going to give it your best shot.
start out the day right by stripping the sheets, switching laundry loads, and folding clothes…all before 7am.
you feel like superwife
take time to Bible study while child crawls all over you. catch up on last week’s work. (four day’s worth)
make a 2nd list of stuff you are going to do when you go out this morning. gym, food lion, office depot. a little stressful, but doable.
pack bag for the gym, notice ipod is almost dead. make mental note to charge ipod in the car on the way.
manage to get you and your son out the door for the gym. redo ponytail on the way because you didn’t brush your hair yet this morning.
gather stuff to get out of the car at the gym, realize you never charged your ipod.
manage to have a decent workout even though your ipod died halfway through. thank you pandora.
return to childcare to find this:
take the silly kid potty, get him a sucker.
watch him be mean to another little girl. tell him he can’t have sucker. watch meltdown.
tired and stinky, drive next door to food lion with tired, cranky boy in tow. stop at the deli counter to get on-sale-for-2.99/lb-non-organic-loaded-with-nitrates ham. while he does this:
manage to keep child within ear-shot while getting pickles, milk, cream, and contact solution. see a friendly store worker who smiles at you tells you how much she misses “those days.” smile back and say something like “oh yes, I love him so much and we have so much fun” while he runs away with two packages of scrubby pads that you aren’t buying.
make it to the checkout register, fumble with your bag. realize you don’t have your wallet, which is in your purse (which you use on sundays) and not in your backpack (which you use the rest of the week).
ask her if you can use your number because you have your debit card number memorized.
she says no.
drive the 15 minutes home – still tired, hungry, and stinky. run in to get wallet, drive the 15 minutes back.
park in the fire lane with your four-ways on so you don’t have to take child into the store a 2nd time. arrive to find out that they put all of your cold food back and you have to re-shop for it.
go back outside, park car, bring in child.
go back to deli counter where thankfully she hands you the bag of on-sale-for-2.99/lb-non-organic-loaded-with-nitrates ham that she sliced for you the first time. fight with child to get over to the milk and cream. watch him run and get into stuff like a crazy child. get to the checkout counter.
child throws on-sale-for-2.99/lb-non-organic-loaded-with-nitrates ham on the floor. scold him while everyone around you laughs. he repeats your scolding back to you while pushing you into the check out counter, then runs away to get on the end of someone else’s cart. step out of line to remove him from cart and return cart to user. child throws a fit. gain control of fit. return to line to pay for groceries. child runs over to the carts and before you know it he has climbed INTO a car cart and is driving it. you reach for your iphone to take a picture, but it’s in the car.
arms full of finally-paid-for groceries you approach said car cart and ask him to climb down. he refuses. set down groceries in cart, take him out, set him down on the ground, pick up groceries – while he runs away screaming out the front door of the store.
you yell EZRA STOP! at the top of your lungs. he stops and cries.
manage to get him into the car in one piece. start driving home.
get off on your exit, hear him saying, “sorry I didn’t obey, AY-MEN!” and your heart melts.
decide since you only need one thing you will run into the office depot by home very quickly rather than have to go back out later. get cringe-at-the-price printer cartridges. wait for 3 minutes for someone to show up at the register while he drives his little basket back and forth across the front of the store.
sorry for your wait, she says as she checks you out.
she’s chatty and nosy, asking if you have more kids. when you tell her no, she asks if you are ready for more. you fumble through your explanation of your in-limbo family plans while your child continues to drive his basket across the front of the store.
you help him return the basket to the stack, but he doesn’t want to leave. you pick him up while he kicks and squirms.
you get to the car and put him in his seat…when he slaps you hard in the face. without a second thought you slap him right back.
you get into the front seat. you explain what it feels like to be slapped. you exchange apologies and forgiveness.
you return home. tired, hungry, sweaty, stinky, and frustrated. you find the to-do-while-i’m-out-this-morning list still on the counter where you left it.
you cut up on-sale-for-2.99/lb-non-organic-loaded-with-nitrates ham for him and steal some bites off of his plate to hold you over until you get a chance to eat.
while he eats, you open your computer to write about your one of “those” mondays. you take breaks from writing to deal with lunchtime drama, take him potty, and put him down for a nap.
you finish writing and breathe a big sigh.
you watch the clock on your desktop click from 11:40 to 11:41 and you hope that the rest of your day is more peaceful than the first half.