Our house is always full of chaos. To say it's never dull is an understatement. The anxiety I've been feeling over finding a daycare came to a head this am. My alarm clock (aka Connor) did NOT go off. I can normally count on him to wake up by 6:30. Today, it was 7:50 and Dan was actually the first one up. I freaked, knowing I have to get both myself and Sophie up and dressed asap. My goal is to get Sophie to daycare by 8:30 so she can eat breakfast. Knowing that wouldn't happen today, I had to add "fix breakfast" to my list, before heading out the door.
I get in/out of the shower and go to check-on babies. Dan has them in their bouncy seats, eating their morning bottles. Connor's eye is red. "Why is Connor's eye red?" "Oh, he had so much green snot coming out of his nose last night that it got on his eye and sealed it shut." Oh, that's all. Great. Add "call the dr" to my list, before heading out the door.
I call the dr and am put on hold. I do my make-up while holding. I can multi-task. I talk to the nurse, just running it by her. "Oh, he's having copious amounts of green snot at his age...he needs to come in. Dr. R has an opening at 10:30 and 11:30." I take the 10:30 knowing full well that I have an 11 am meeting. Add "cancel meeting" to my list, before heading out the door.
Now it's really full speed ahead, as it's nearing 8:30 and Sophie is still in bed. I give her time to get out of her jammies. She refuses. I start to unzip her. "Me, me, ME!" OK, well then do it yourself, which actually means that she REzips her jammies, only to un-zip them again. She doesn't like the shirt I pick out. I offer her a second shirt. After a tantrum that she cannot wear the long-sleeved shirt she sees peeking out of her drawer, she decides on the original shirt.
We are potty training. I ask if she wants to wear a diaper or underpants to Stacey's, hoping against hope that she picks the diaper because that is easier for me. Nope. She wants her Dora (aka Dowa) panties. I only see one pair...at least they are clean. This means I need to find at least 2 more pairs to take to the sitter. There are none to be found, except possibly in that huge pile of clean laundry that is covering our entire couch. Do you know how hard it is to find 2 pairs of little girl size 4 underpants in that pile? Almost impossible, especially when I'm in such a hurry.
I can't find my hair brush. This is bad for both me and Sophie. There are just piles of crap EVERYWHERE. A pile of paperwork here, a pile of clothes there, random shoes all over, toys acting as landmines up and down the hall. I CAN'T TAKE IT! We are in the process of painting the twins room (finally, it's only been almost a year). Their room is a disaster in and of itself. The counters are full of crap, the dining room table is full of crap. I lose my shit. At least I didn't cuss. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew Sophie was watching and listening, so I kept it together as best I could. I thought Dan was going to yell at me for bitching, but thankfully (for him), he knew better.
Finally, we're off. I drop Sophie at Stacey's. Luckily, I'm so late there is no traffic. It's almost 9:30 by now and I'm debating what to do. Going to work for 40 minutes will be pretty fruitless, I know. So, I take on the task that I really don't want to do, but I do because I'm a good wife. I go to the Cremation office to get a death certificate for my mother-in-law, that Dan needs in order to title her car in his name.
I had no idea he had ordered one, until he told me last night that it was ready to pick up. I immediately offered to pick it up for him. He argued, pretty adamant in getting it himself. I kept pushing it though. It's bad enough that he will forever have the picture of his mom's body in his head, I certainly didn't want him smelling the smell of that building that I hoped I would never smell again. I am certain it would have sent him over the edge. So, I pick it up. Luckily, I was only in the building up to a certain point, so although I did smell the smell, it wasn't nearly as strong as I remembered, the day that I saw her for the last time. But it was enough.
I got back to the car and cried. Why? I have no idea. The chaos of the morning, the anxiety about daycare, missing my mother in law, stress about buying a new car, re-fi'ing our mortgage, plus some.
Then, I took Connor to the pedi, where she confirmed an ear infection. That should explain (with the exception of last night) his inability to sleep lately.
I finally make it to my office, only to have my Outlook calendar remind me at 12:45, of a 1 pm meeting that I am running, for which I have no agenda.
All this, before I even have lunch. Or breakfast, actually.