no, instead it was one of those child vomiting profusely in her carseat to the point of saturation/not having a spare outfit and you're in seattle so she has to make the trip home in the buff/older child running around winco while trying to keep the other one quiet due to the lack of binky/finally getting to the cash register and realizing you've forgotten your wallet, but you do have a checkbook (which never happens) only to get your last shred of hope dashed because they don't accept checks without a form of id, but you do have a random debit card that you think for a second you could run as credit only to find out that they don't take credit either/arguing with your husband about something totally idiotic that drives to cry your hormones out in the car ride from the store without your groceries that the manager had to store in the "cooler" until you can make the trek back/finally getting baby to sleep because not only one but all four binkies are MIA/while you're writing this incredibly sad yet semi-hard to read sob story, your child proceeds to rub, or smear rather, a confiscated piece of pizza into the carpet that you've worked so hard on keeping the color it came to you in since this has been an issue on more that one occasion in more that one apartment.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
my most recent day from hades
so, its been a day...and not one of those incredible ones where the sun is shining all around and you hear birds chirping while flowers are sprouting up around your ankles.
no, instead it was one of those child vomiting profusely in her carseat to the point of saturation/not having a spare outfit and you're in seattle so she has to make the trip home in the buff/older child running around winco while trying to keep the other one quiet due to the lack of binky/finally getting to the cash register and realizing you've forgotten your wallet, but you do have a checkbook (which never happens) only to get your last shred of hope dashed because they don't accept checks without a form of id, but you do have a random debit card that you think for a second you could run as credit only to find out that they don't take credit either/arguing with your husband about something totally idiotic that drives to cry your hormones out in the car ride from the store without your groceries that the manager had to store in the "cooler" until you can make the trek back/finally getting baby to sleep because not only one but all four binkies are MIA/while you're writing this incredibly sad yet semi-hard to read sob story, your child proceeds to rub, or smear rather, a confiscated piece of pizza into the carpet that you've worked so hard on keeping the color it came to you in since this has been an issue on more that one occasion in more that one apartment.
younger and older child in bed. head pounding slowing. pizza sauce expunged with 409 because its the only cleaner in said apartment (whole other story). spoke too soon...baby waking up thanks to the back up binky just not hitting the spot. oh well, at least adam's a shoe-in for american idol--oh wait, that totally sucks too. dangit
no, instead it was one of those child vomiting profusely in her carseat to the point of saturation/not having a spare outfit and you're in seattle so she has to make the trip home in the buff/older child running around winco while trying to keep the other one quiet due to the lack of binky/finally getting to the cash register and realizing you've forgotten your wallet, but you do have a checkbook (which never happens) only to get your last shred of hope dashed because they don't accept checks without a form of id, but you do have a random debit card that you think for a second you could run as credit only to find out that they don't take credit either/arguing with your husband about something totally idiotic that drives to cry your hormones out in the car ride from the store without your groceries that the manager had to store in the "cooler" until you can make the trek back/finally getting baby to sleep because not only one but all four binkies are MIA/while you're writing this incredibly sad yet semi-hard to read sob story, your child proceeds to rub, or smear rather, a confiscated piece of pizza into the carpet that you've worked so hard on keeping the color it came to you in since this has been an issue on more that one occasion in more that one apartment.
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6 comments:
Ohhhhhhh Tara! You have my complete sympathy! I could feel the distress coming through the screen. Hang in there, go take a bubble bath and get some rest! I'm thinking of you, pal.
Oh my friend, that all really does suck...and I would have been sobbing in winco, not just the car.
It is days like that, that you want to throw in the towel, or throw the towel at someone.
I love you bud. Hang in there. You will laugh at that day later...much, much later, but there will be laughter!
PS we will have a debate on the americal idol thing later. GO KRIS!
Poor Tara! I'm so sorry. That sounds so hard. On days like that you should just bring your kids to me and go take a nap. :-)
W-O-W. Been there, lady (well, not barf in Seattle, but the general mommy-break-down-zone). That's the point you need to do one of two things, and both require outside intervention: get a babysitter and hop up on caffeine and chickflicks, or again, the babysitter (which could be the husband) and SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. I know it's too late for this time, just put that in your pocket for your next trip to Crazy Town. Sorry cuz!
Oh, and sorry, I agree with your Zitmans--go Kris!
Tara, I really feel for you girl, but I do have to say... YOU MADE MY DAY! You are so witty and clever explaining the 'stressful' moment and gave me a few good laughs. I hope tomorrow it brings you a few laughs as well! Seriously... how lucky are you to have such a fun story to tell! I wish I could retell my events as well as you! You are FABULOUS!!
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