If a bird were chirping at my window sill today, I would not be very happy about it.

I must be doing something wrong. Seriously, if all mothers have the kind of mornings that I seem to have day after day, I don't think there would be many mothers left. There would be a ton of single dads, and all the "Missing" signs would show haggard women, with notations underneath to the effect of "Missing, Wife / Mother pictured above. Answers to the name of "Momcani" or "Honeywillyou". Last seen in the blue minivan, leaving the daycare. Please help us find Honey!! We are out of underwear, and peanut butter and jelly."



But first, we must start out at my mother's house yesterday. We had a nice drenching rain, without thunder or lightning, so I let my kids play out in the rain. Unfortunately, Colby only owns one pair of shoes that fit, so they were soaked.

We didn't get home until late last night, and I stayed up long enough to wash his shoes, and get them in the dryer. Then I went to sleep and slept 7 blissful hours.

This morning, I got up and stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen. I poured water into the carafe and then from the carafe into the coffee pot. Put in the filter, put in the coffee, turned on the coffeepot.

Took a shower. Dressed. Went bck to the kitchen to get some coffe and discovered that I had never put the carafe back on the coffeepot. My coffee pot is one of those that won't drain down unless there is a carafe underneath, so all that coffee drained to where the filter was and then overflowed, hot coffee and grounds everywhere. *BANGS HEAD ON COUNTER*

Then, I wake the kids up, and wake Marty up again. Things go along fairly smoothly until I go to the dryer to get Colby's shoes. Apparently one of his shoes must have knocked against the dryer door just right because there is laundry hanging out on to the floor and everything is still soaking wet and smells like wet horse butt. GRRREAT. I cannot send him to school in wet tennis shoes. So I rush around and finish getting everyone ready and then head with both kids in tow to Walmart. (Marty has leisurely filled his coffee cup and set off for work at a carefree pace, enjoying his "R" rated radio station with the windows rolled down and the warm summer morning breeze rustling his strawberry locks...)

In order to understand my bitchiness, you need to picture a big triangle. My house is at the point of the triangle, Walmart is the far left point and daycare is the far right. My office is a few blocks from Walmart. So to go by Walmart is to go in the opposite direction as daycare. (Roughly, Walmart would be on about 36th street - if Arkadelphia didn't stop numbering and start naming at 26th - and the daycare would be on 3rd street.)

I get to walmart and have 20 minutes to spare. I unload the kids (including a barefoot Colby) and get them inside, and in a buggy. I get back to the shoes and... where there used to be an "Infants" section, now there is just a "Girls" section. I asked the walmart lady where the infant boys shoes were and she said they didn't have any. DIDN'T HAVE ANY??? Thanks for the help there, sugar!!! I look and find ONE PAIR of UNISEX sandals in a size 7. Those will freaking work. Get up to the front... and I think I may cry. Seriously. I am OUT of checks, I do NOT have a debit card, NOR do I have a credit card. I keep looking at my Movie Gallery membership card and my Subway Sub Club stamps as if they will somehow miraculously change into legal tender. "Oh, you take expired driver's licenses from 1995 where I look really young and thin? That's magnificent!!!" Short of dancing topless on the bag carousel for change, I can't pay for the DAMN SHOES. I haul the kids back out to the car, call marty at work and tell him, "I am driving PAST the fire station. I will slow down and I would like for you to throw the debit card in the window."

He did.

Went BACK to walmart, bought the damn shoes. It is 8:25. I have 5 minutes to drive from Fictional 36th Street to 3rd street. I toss the kids into the car, cram the shoes on Colby, drive very fast downtown, pull up at the daycare (already officially late for work at 8:31) take him in, and his teacher says, "Hi Colby!! Where is your lunch?"

LUNCH? LUNCH??? He has SHOES!! We didn't do lunch today, we did SHOES. I can only do one thing a day and today SHOES WON!! HOOORAAAYY for SHOES!!

Drive back to 26th street to my office. Late. Again. Boss pissed. Again.

The BEST part of all of this is that Elizabeth has Vacation Bible School this week. SOOOO, at 8:50 (yes, about 15 minutes after getting to work) I get to get back in the car and drive her from 26th street to 5th street with a brief stop-off at 28th street to pick up Colby some lunch, and then on to 3rd street to drop off his lunch and back to 26th street to work until lunchtime when I have to drive back to 5th street to pick her up and then back to 26th to work and when I get off work I will drive back to 3rd Street to get Colby and then back to the apex of my triangle to drink apple martinis and start working on my Missing Mom poster.

Heck, if I don't do it before I run away, it won't get done.


*That old picture has really nothing to do with my blog except it is a mom and a baby in a car. They look much more calm than me and my kids do, however... but how much do you LOVE that old carseat???