Just one of THOSE days!

It was one of those days! And a Monday to boot! I wanted a glass of wine by 8:30 a.m.! And the boys and I didn’t even get out of bed until 10:00. But had I known just how bad this day was going to be, I would have wanted one at 8:30.
Instead, I waited until 2:30 (well, 2:26 to be exact). It’s one of the many benefits of being a SAH mom. And, along with consuming large amounts of chocolate and Blue Bell’s ice cream, I highly recommend it for helping you maintain your sanity, if not your figure.
But I digress…
So, I know you’re thinking, “You didn’t get out of bed until 10:00? How in the world could that be the start of a bad day?”
Well, let me tell you. The sins of the weekend catch up with you on Monday! What sins did I commit this weekend, you ask? It’s called not keeping our usual naps! Yes Mam, boys 1 and 2 got a much shortened version of a nap on Saturday. And on Sunday, we were at the grandparent’s house. Nuff said? And while there, boy 1 got a “special” treat and was allowed to go to work with Daddy for awhile, which equals no nap! However, boy 2 and I did get a nap. So, I’m not real sure where his moodiness came from. It must have been sympathy moodiness.
But back to this morning and how it all started. Boy 1 was up coloring when boy 2 and I came out of the bedroom. Everything seemed fine. Until, boy 1 opened his mouth! And that’s when I knew this wasn’t going to be a very happy day. It became, quickly apparent, that we were about to have one of those days when EVERYTHING comes out of his mouth in that irritating to no end whiney voice! You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? I was ready to put him down for a nap by 10:30!
Now I’m dealing with the king of all whiners, when I notice the dog is not interested in eating his Kibbles n Bits. Warning sirens start going off in my head. Then I think, maybe Hubby fed him before he left this morning. Because I am nothing if not an Optimist. Quick call to Hubby quickly eliminates that possibility. Not good. The dog is more interested in sleeping this morning than usual. It’s then that I notice what I believe to be slobber on the kitchen floor, but when I clean it up it’s a yellowish color. Really not good. I, then, notice another puddle in the living room. And as I stated earlier, I try to be positive whenever I can and think to myself, well maybe that’s the end of that, he got it out of his system, and now we’re good. Right? Wrong! A little while later, I start hearing the sound. Yes, THAT sound, which means prepare for dog barf! Fortunately, he’s in the kitchen and not on the carpet, because I really hate it when I have to drag him from the carpet onto the hard floor! Ok, I’m really not that bad, but yah I’ve been known to do that a few times, and you would too if you had patterned Berber carpet! But again, I digress, back to the story. Anyway, to give you the condensed version, the dog barfs, at least, 5 more times through out the day. He’s never barfed that much in one day before. He was just fine when we went to bed last night. Who can figure out a dog’s stomach? Not me. I feel a trip to the vet coming.
And just in case you’re wondering, yes, at least 2 of those times did indeed happen on the Berber carpet. Now I’m no psychic or anything, but I see a trip to rent a carpet shampooer in my very near future. After, the trip to the vet, of course.
So, the whole time this doggy drama is playing out, the boys are continuing their usual noise making and mayhem. It’s then that I decide to make the completely unreasonable request, and I really should have known better, than to ask boy 1 to clean his toys up so I could do something crazy like clean! Yes, after all these years, I should indeed know better, but I didn’t. Call me a slow learner. So, I encourage all of you to learn from my sins, I mean mistakes. Don’t ever ask a whiny 5 year old to clean up his toys; unless, of course, you want to hear 4 hours of whining and crying and general carrying on.
After 4 and 1/2 hours of such commotion, I had the brilliant idea of letting the toys and kitchen paraphernalia stay just where they were, all over the living room and kitchen floor, and letting Daddy see them when he got home; because when boy 1 was supposedly “cleaning” up his toys, he and his brother decided to unload two of my kitchen drawers. The ones that contain the 2 million cookie cutters we never use and all sorts of measuring cups and funnels and such. So, these are now all over my kitchen. But as quickly as I had this thought, I regretted it, because dad gum it those cookie cutters hurt like the dickens when you step on them!
Now, I’m praying that the Lord will give me some real wisdom in how to handle this whole issue. Because I’m tired of crying and stepping on cookie cutters and crying some more for goodness sake!
Anyone care to join me for a dozen Lindor truffles followed by a chaser of a quart of Blue Bell’s Southern Blackberry Cobbler?
And, then, we can all go join Emotional Eaters Anonymous. Won’t that be fun? I wonder if we’ll see Oprah there.