I can’t even tell you what a serious CF this week has been. I’m not even sure where to start.
Monday, was pretty much just your run of the mill Monday (aside from being VD which means nothing to the impropers.) It was full of craptasticness. Mondays are Jazzercise days. (You guys are gonna get so sick of hearing about Jazz.) So, I busted ass to get the last kiddo out the door and ran for the car. On the way out Hubbs let me know the car was on FUMES and to stop to grab some gas on the way TO Jazz. SHITBALLS. I was already running late. Grrrr.
When I drove by the only gas station between here and Jazz I was in the wrong lane, realized I had even less money than I thought (like $1.72 in the ash tray,) no debit card, no nothing. I couldn’t even show the guy my boobs because they were poured into my sports bra and we all now how hard it is to retrieve your boobs from your sports bra. Plus, they are not just impressive enough to earn a gallon of gas anymore. I had to just chance it. My Jazz pal offered to get me some gas after Jazz. Can I have a Jazz Hand Clap for her awesomeness? So, after class we headed for the gas station and I ran out of gas about 100 feet away from the studio. It was just a nightmare of idiotic situations, but she saved the day and I made it back home. In time to deal with the kids’ bedtime. Yahoo.
Tuesday was another sub-par day. The kids are just little jerks lately. They’re always fighting with one another. My daycare babies are teething. The older two are potty training. The oldest three are having squabbles every five minutes and need a constant referee. I was stressing all day because I hadn’t gotten that little email from the IRS telling me my return had been accepted so I had myself convinced I was being audited. I decided I just needed to go sweat out some of my stress. So, once again the best pal ever came to my rescue and picked me up for Jazz class. After class we were walking out the door and somehow, I sprained my wrist. Who the hell sprains their wrist opening a damn door? Oh! I know! ME! Amazeballs.
Then yesterday (Wednesday) I was getting some supplies out of my stocked to the brim craft supply pantry and a basket of teensy tinsy little tid-bits fell from the top shelf and then somehow knocked every other basket off of every other shelf on its way down. Basically, my craft supplies are still in a heap in the bottom of the supply pantry in my kitchen. I may just throw it all away and start over. I literally can’t even open the door without shedding a tear.
These three things? They are just a few of smaller things that have happened this week. I could go on for hours. But I won’t. I know you’re already annoyed. So am I.
I know this means nothing to you. I know you have shit happen all the time and I’m not a special case. But, seriously? I just don’t know if I can take much more this week. I’m on the verge of freaking the fuck out. I spilled the sugar bowl all over the counter today and I just sunk to the ground and started crying in the corner. Three of the kids spilled their cereal at breakfast and I just let the dog hop up on top of the table and eat it off.
I changed five back-to-back poopy diapers in a 10 minute time period this morning. I only have four kids in diapers. That’s right… by the time I finished number four, number one had shit so far up his back it was in his hair. Then? A half hour later when I realized I should not still be smelling poop, I realized I had it not only all up my arm- from sprained wrist to elbow, but it was also all over the back of my leg. God only knows where I tracked it. I still smell shit.
There’s only one explanation. God hates me because I don’t always capitalize his… I mean His… name when I write.
Great. One more grammatical error I have to try to correct.