WARNING: If the following sentence were a jogger, it would win the Olympics gold medal for the run-on. Continue at your own risk:
Today was one of those days where I prepared crazy fast lunches to get Stink to school on time, but only before I made crazy fast breakfasts and dressed everyone crazy fast and prepared crazy fast snacks and after school drinks because there would be no time to stop at home after school before swim lessons because I had to take Pip to Grandma Stellas and then go to the car dealership only to find out what I thought was wrong was indeed not wrong but something else was and cell phone reception stunk so I couldn't finish my interview for a query I'm almost done with and then I had to get Pip again and then get my mom and then pick up Stink and then do lessons and then drop Mom off and then come home and make dinner and talk to Rex and clean up together before he rushed off to buy car parts and I read to the kids and dressed them and brushed teeth and stuck them in bed and I hit a wall.
Well, technically it was dresser. And I screamed....
Earlier today I had one of my prouder parenting moments when I screamed at Stink "Shut up for one secoooooond!"
Kind of a nice little bookend, don't you think? The Shut up, followed by crazy fast, followed by God Damnit!!!?
I apologized to Stink later this evening, explaining that, "Mommy should not have said either of those things."
He looked at me with big eyes and said... no joke..."But I still love you."
I guess with that kind of encouragement I can try again tomorrow.
But I do hate this run-around... it's not me. And so, I offer up this prayer to the deity I just insulted at full volume:
Dear God -
First off, sorry for yelling at you earlier. But could you have warned me about the dresser before it hit me in the elbow? The fact that it hasn't moved in the seven years we lived here has nothing to do with it. If you can move mountains, you can move a piece of cheap ass laminate, too.
And as far as wanting my kids to succeed... that means making them healthy and happy. But if neither of them turned out to be soccer stars, which would keep me from being a crazy soccer carpooling mom, potentionally yelling to kids other than my own to "SHUT UP!" and ruining my already less than angelic reputation at my kids' Catholic school, I would be okay with that.