Yesterday started off with such promise. It was going to be hot. I was volunteering at Number 4’s school. Then my friend A was coming over with 2 of her kids. We were going to hang out in the pool, and maybe even have a grown-up conversation while the kids played together.
While the little ones were napping and before the older ones got home from school, I was going to plant vegetables in the garden beds I’ve spent the last 2 weeks cleaning out and getting ready. I was so excited.
Then I was going to grill up some hot dogs, have a nice, quick dinner outside, go watch Number 3’s baseball practice and finish at Number 2’s baseball game.
It was going to be a perfect summer day.
Everything went according to plan until about 10:45. In the morning.
Number 5 chose yesterday to test every limit and push every button she could. She screamed through just about the entire playdate.
In order to accurately describe the decibel level at which she was screaming, I would need to use like a 5000 point font. She was relentless.
“I WANT YOU TO PICK ME UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!”
“MY EYES ARE STINGING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
When I went to make lunch for everyone, she followed me and totally wiped out. That just amplified everything. She was so pissed that she didn’t even realize she had scraped her foot and was bleeding. There was a Hansel and Gretel-like trail of bloody footprints on the kitchen floor. I quickly picked her up and hurried outside to the pool.
“I know she has b-l-o-o-d on her f-o-o-t. DON’T SAY ANYTHING!”
Okay, situation contained.
“Number 5, it’s time for lunch. Do you want some chicken?”
“I WANT TO WATCH A SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”
“You need to eat some lunch first.”
“THERE’S DIRT ON MY BAAAAAAAAAAATHING SUUUUUUIT!!!!”
A was still there, but I think she was throwing one of her things into her bag every time I turned around and planning her escape route…
Lots of other fun stuff happened over the next 6 hours, but I’ll fast forward to 7:30. I made it through Number 3’s practice, but just didn’t have the strength to unload everyone from the car to watch the rest of Number 2’s game. I still had to give everyone baths. I dumped Number 3 at the game with my husband and came home with 4, 5, 6 and 7.
On the 1.5 mile drive home the weather went from beautiful to apocolyptic. I got everyone inside and looked out back. There were about 150 paper plates blown all over the yard. One umbrella had snapped off and had blown upside down into the pool. Oh good, and the baby monitor was attached to it. That’s a $200 turn of events right there. Another umbrella was blowing down the hill. I chased it down before it completely splintered.
Finally made it to bedtime.
“Mom, aren’t you going to read us a sto-”
“Look what time it is. Stop talking. Just go to sleep.”
I pretty much shoved the kids into their rooms and pulled the door shut tight to make sure they couldn’t escape.
I still had a kitchen full of dirty dishes. I was loading the dishwasher and trying to talk to my husband about Open House/lacrosse banquet/Band-o-rama/baseball game scheduling nightmares. The tv was on. He couldn’t take his eyes off of America’s Got Talent. I was practically throwing the dishes into the dishwasher I was so annoyed.
I had to end this day. Get some sleep. Start tomorrow with a clean slate.
Well it’s 5:50 a.m. right now, and I’ve already unclogged a toilet that someone was kind enough to leave for me last night.
Refer to title. Literally.