Do you sometimes have days when the most random things make you feel like bursting into tears...and then things go downhill from there? Yesterday was like that for me. It all started with a trip to Sam's Club, as most inclinations to burst into tears do.
I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this, but it is no picnic taking my four little ones on errands. Especially the craziest one of them all, Wesley. I won't go into details but suffice it to say that standing at the register I suddenly notice that I am sweating in a serious way...just from trying to buy things like flour and frozen pizza and peanut M&Ms (you're welcome for those office snacks, Tyler) with these kids (by the way, why does the Denton Sam's Club not sell skim milk? I was incredulous. Tyler's theory is that Denton is more historically rural and farm people like "wholesome" whole or 2% milk. I just found it annoying). I think it ends up taking us about 10 to 12 minutes to get from the register to the exit door because Wesley is FREAKING out. He is squirming and screaming and I can barely hold him. I try letting him walk and he makes a bee-line for the Tire Center and walks underneath the gate into their register area...etc. You can picture it. By the time we are finally outside walking to the car I feel like I have crossed the Sahara or scaled at least part of Everest...something momentous. Is this the scenario that brought me close to tears? No.
After loading everyone up I head over to Sam's gas station. I slide all of the proper cards and start pumping the gas. After a couple of minutes I look at the pump and notice that the "premium unleaded" pump is the one that was selected. I have no idea how this happened since I have never in my life pressed the wrong pump at the gas station, but there you have it. I am so mad that I have just put several gallons of gas at $3.55 a gallon into the van that this is the moment when the tears threaten. The frustration is intense. And then I think how absolutely ridiculous it is to cry over pumped gas (which should be the new colloquialism, don't you think? "Spilled milk" is so last century).
Apparently this episode affected my mental processes in a significant way because after we got home and unloaded all of the Sam's Club stuff we got ready to go swimming. The kids wanted to walk to the pool so that we would dry off on the return trip. Makes sense. I gather all of our supplies, put the baby in the stroller, run back inside to grab my keys and my cover-up, have everyone stand in the front yard while I run back and close the garage door and exit the front door, locking it behind me. At this moment C.T. says something like "where did you put your keys Mom?" and I say "I have no idea, but I don't think I have them". And I didn't have them. Oh bother. It was 2:45 in the afternoon. Tyler usually leaves work about 6:30, and that's on a good day. My plan is to go to the pool and have the kids stay there as long as possible and then hang out in our backyard until that gets to be too much for them and possibly throw ourselves on the mercy of neighborhood friends by showing up on their doorstep begging for shelter. We stayed at the pool until 5. I texted Tyler and told him what the situation was just so he'd know that if he could avoid working until 9 it would be good. He said he'd try to leave early. We walk home and stay in the back yard for half an hour and Tyler comes home and rescues us from the great outdoors. There are my keys, sitting on the family room coffee table where I put them down to put on my cover-up.
The plus side to everything that happened yesterday is that the kids were completely tired out and fell asleep so fast after I put them to bed. Not one person came downstairs saying they couldn't sleep because they couldn't get the vampire episode of Phineas and Ferb out of their heads (Lily), or that their bug bites were too itchy (Amelia, whose entire right side- face, arm, hand, leg, foot - is covered with mosquito bites from sleeping on the trampoline with Tyler Friday night), or that they can't sleep because when Mom goes downstairs it feels like she's not home and that makes them feel like they want to cry (C.T.). So even though there were several more challenging moments to the day, I honestly laid my head on my pillow feeling like it had been a good day after all.
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