I felt compelled to resurrect the WTF Wednesday just for this week after the day I had.
My day was already pretty shitty when I came home to this at 5:45pm:
I will get back to that. Let me start from the beginning. I have been alone all week while Chris climbs Mount Whitney. This is just about the worst week in the world to be by myself with four children because school and soccer were just getting going this week. This morning I got Ava out the door by 7am. I managed to squeeze in a couple of sips of coffee before the triplets came down screaming “it’s 7 o’clock . . . we’re coming down! Can we have Life? Can we have Life?” By “Life” they mean the cereal, not “thank you mom for allowing me to live in childhood luxury another day of my life,” life. Fine. It’s LIfe and apple juice all around.
I get a call around 8:30am. I notice that it is my mom calling from her cell phone. Crap. Why is my mom calling me right now when she is supposed to be teaching? What happened to Ava? Not another sprained ankle I hope. I reluctantly answer. She tells me school has been canceled due to a major power outage. There are no lights and no air conditioning in the classrooms. It is 100 degrees outside so this just won’t work. Now I have to go pick Ava up from school.
But first I have preschool orientation to take the triplets to. It takes me 5 minutes to get to their school but I left 15 minutes early to make sure I was there on time. The second I pull onto the street I realize that I am stuck behind one of those trucks that paints the yellow lines on the center divider of the street. It takes me 10 minutes to go 1 mile. I am so frustrated that I am flailing my arms around silently mouthing profanities so my children won’t hear but so I can feel better about my situation. Sometimes a good silent swear does the trick. Try it. So then I get agitated at the truck in front of me for reasons of insanity that I wish to not share, and there I go again with the flailing arms. As I pull up beside the truck I give the driver a hard stare, more like a glare, only to realize it is my sweet neighbor Mr.Bill, significant other to my nanny Kathy. In lightening speed I transform my stare glare into a frantic wave and I put the biggest smile on my face to accompany the friendly wave. That is when the word SHIT flew out of my mouth on accident. I just offended Mr. Bill who most likely saw me directing road rage toward him for no reason. The same Mr. Bill that Preston adores. Mr. Bill who patiently mows the lawn and trims the hedges with my small son.
I show up at preschool 10 minutes late. The orientation is well underway. All three of my children climb onto my lap as I sit on one of those miniature chairs. I can barely see the teacher through their small bobbing heads. I am surprised the chair made it unscathed through the ordeal. My kids try to torture me for the next 30 minutes by waving papers in my face and climbing over me like I am a piece of furniture, while I try to re-learn the rules of preschool from our most favorite preschool teacher.
We pick up Ava from school. On our way to the car Preston melts down because his crock has caused him a blister. There is a flap of skin hanging from his foot. He is frozen on the sidewalk and he can no longer walk. I go to pick him up and carry him to the car. You would think that the kid had been bitten by a rattlesnake. There are onlookers. Two of them. They say, “one of those days huh?” I say, “you have no idea!” They laugh and Ava gets mad because she thinks they are laughing at Preston’s blister.
Now for the worst part of the day. We head to the doctor’s office for a HIB shot. It turns out we are missing the HIB shot we need to start preschool tomorrow. I conceal the fact that we are at the doctor’s office for shots until we are in the waiting room and the triplets see three needles loaded and ready to pierce their skin. In unison they all start screaming. I form an alliance with Ava. I will be the holder of the shot victim and then I will send them over to Ava for comforting. It works nicely. The sad part about giving triplets their shots is that they each have to watch the other get it done and wait in anxiety until its their turn. They were all screaming so loudly that I know everyone in every room in that doctor’s office could hear. Ava felt so badly for them she offered to have the shot done to herself.
This brings us back to that lovely photo above. We arrive home and as I am carrying everybody’s paraphernalia from the car Ava runs to the door and says, “mom, you aren’t going to believe what happened. Come here quick!!” I said, “Ava, I can’t handle that language right now. I don’t need the suspense. Just tell me what happened in the house.” Ava said that Sage went in the pantry and got a bunch of food and the wrappers are all over the house. Elsa piped in, “she’s right mom. Sage messed up the house.”
BIG SIGH. Potential for mangy mutt murder.
Sage went into the pantry and with her teeth I suppose, since her paws are pretty much good for nothing but walking on, she took some snacks to the family room carpet, opened them up and had herself some dinner. Here is what she enjoyed out of the pantry last night:
1. 4 Nature Valley Granola Thins
2. 5 Kids Cliff Bars – Honey Graham flavor
3. 3 Luna Bars – White Chocolate Macademia Nut
4. An applesauce out of the squeeze pouch. I didn’t know that she enjoyed applesauce or that she drank from squeeze pouches.
5. She decided against the bag of prunes, which were unopened. You will notice them by the dog bed in the picture below.
Now she is going to diarrhea all over my floor tonight.
To make matters worse, when I yelled at Sage for being naughty, the kids turned against me. They took Sage’s side. The called me mean. If I were truly mean I would stab her with a club soda filled syringe and kill her like I did in my dream once. In my dream, club soda killed dogs.
So after this day it came as no surprise when I threw a filter filled with wet ground coffee into the trash can without a trash bag in it.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.