Tomorrow Is Another Day

So today? Today kind of stank.


The day started out well enough, but something shifted around 10:30 this morning and we all found ourselves in the hand basket headed for you-know-where.


Bun, who has been warming up to the idea of a regular nap, decided to pull the old switcheroo on his mother. He would not settle down, and I finally had to leave him in his crib while I took a shower. If you can call ducking under the shower head for two minutes a real shower. It was more like a rinse-off.


When I got out of the shower, Bun was hoarse from screaming and I heard the distinct sounds of splashing water. That's never good when there is a belligerent nearly two year old on the loose. Never.

I walked into the bathroom to find Sally playing in the toilet, which, thanks to her older brother, was UN-flushed. Fiver subscribes to the chamberpot school of thought rather than we-have-indoor-plumbing-so-just-flush-the-darn-thing-already. I wigged.

I'm usually not too easily grossed out, but this sent my heebies jeebies to DEFCON 5. I had to put the baby down, who promptly resumed screaming, and grab Sally out of the toilet. I yelled at her the whole time I scrubbed her down, even though she kept calling my name in the most plaintive and obviously apologetic tone possible. This tone could have melted away the rest of the polar ice cap, that's how sad it was. But since I have no heart, I just kept on scolding.

Meanwhile, Fiver was sitting in his room, listening to various parties cry and rail, and he said, "I just can't take the noise." You and me both, brother.

Things eventually settled down, but we never quite got back on track. There is not a single area of this house that reflects the day's efforts. Things are messy and I feel defeated. I let my family down today because I let unimportant things take precedence over what I need to be doing around here. I sat too long at the computer, trying to answer emails and eventually succumbing to the lure of my Google Reader. And then, because I was angry at myself, I proceeded to be angry with the children. I am so very mature.

So here it is, 10:30 at night, and Fiver has crawled into our bed seeking solace. I would like to do a little more work, but I need to be available to my child. I need to put first things first. I need to shut down.

Good night, my friends.

PS: I apologized to Sally many, many times and gave her wet cheeks many kisses and she seems to have let it all go. She, evidently, has a heart.