Exhilerating to Infuriating in a mere 24 hours!

This morning unfolded with promises of a good day.

Liar.

It began with optimistic signs. The kids all slept well and long, and politely played together while I made us a more healthy breakfast of eggs and berries.

They ate their entire breakfast. That hardly ever happens.

After breakfast, they politely played together (even including Hank in their games, making him laugh from the floor where he rolled onto his stomach and promptly got stuck) while I cleaned up the breakfast mess.

Daphne went down for an early nap, Hank dozed in his swing, and Wyatt entertained himself while I got some laundry going, did some research on cribs on KSL (Hank has officially outgrown Grandpa's cradle. Always a sad day for me.), and - gasp! - SHOWERED.

Things were going so well and hiccup-free that I decided we'd celebrate with a picnic lunch in the back yard. We spread a blanket and I and my three partners-in-crime feasted on sandwiches, apples, craisins, and chips - and then galavanted about the backyard, which my parents have turned into a wonderland complete with trampoline, play-house with swings, a slide, and three different types of climbing walls, a ride-on airplane, and a rocking horse.

Wyatt calls it "Grandpa's park".

All three went down for naps after lunch and playing hard in the hot sun. I had a chance to begin a letter to Lizzie in anticipation of sending her a missionary care package later this week.

And that, friends, is when Wednesday turned on me.

Wyatt woke up with nightmares and refused to be consoled. He wanted to snuggle, didn't want to snuggle, wanted to be on me, didn't want me to touch him, didn't want me to say anything at all - just wanted to be irrationally upset, but in my face.

Which woke up Henry.

Which began a juggling act - my two upset boys wanting/needing me at the same time.

But, okay. We were going to get Henry a new crib - I found one on KSL that was within the price-range I liked - and so we also needed to go to Ikea to get a crib mattress and bedding.

The plan was for Bill to pick up the crib on his way home from work, and the Kids and I would go to Ikea to get the rest of it.

After too long wrestling the kids to get out the door (and waking poor Daphne from her slumber so we could go), I finally got on the road. Which was when I remembered that Ikea doesn't take checks.

I don't have any cash.
I don't have a debit card.
I don't believe in credit cards, so even though I technically have one, it hasn't had a balance on it in over a year, and to use it felt like a curse, a sin, and a death-trap all in one. But that's another post. Basically, it wasn't an option.

so I called Bill, to see if we could meet up and trade his debit card for my check-book, because he was going to need something to pay the crib-people with, too. Right?

Simple, right?

Riiiiiiiight.

Bill's debit card was warped by the sun, so he wasn't feeling too optimistic about using it in an ATM. He suggested I rush to the nearest bank to see if they were open later - he'd heard a rumor that banks were starting to do that - to see if I could make a withdrawal with the evidence of my checkbook and my shiny new license.

The nearest bank was not very near, and by the time I got there, they had been closed for half-an-hour. The crib people were waiting for us, so I called and begged Bill to at least try his card in the ATM before we gave everything up as lost.

It takes WAY too much time and energy to get the kids into the car brushed, washed, clothed, socked, shoed, and with reinforcements (diaper bag) for it to have been for NOTHING.

Bill was just leaving the office, so we had some time on our hands.

The kids were starving.

So I caved, and got them Happy Meals.

Misnomer of the CENTURY this time.

After getting their food, Hank decided to fill his pants. So we pulled into a parking lot so I could sit on the floor of the van in the back with them and change Hank and supervise 'dinner'.

Wyatt dropped his full bottle of chocolate milk, which immediately seeped into the van carpets. I mentally cursed Mc D's for being so stingy with their napkin allotments - seriously? One napkin per happy meal? Have you MET kids? - and frantically searched the car for any means to sop it up before it became a permanent stain and, later (and far more frightening), a permanent smell.

And while I tried to sop up the wet mess with - you guessed it - wet wet-wipes, Daphne dismembered her hamburger and began shoving bits of hamburger down the side of her car-seat.

I vowed I would NEVER let the kids eat in the car, again - a vow I knew I'd break, because really, the only time they DO is when we're in a pickle.

And then Daphne began throwing fries at Henry.

Fries are evil.

Evil.

So finally, I get everything and everyone cleaned up and in some semblance of 'under control', and Bill calls. He's there - and we follow him to the ATM.

IT WORKS!

Hallelujah!

So we go and get the crib - I get lost on the way, of course - and after we shove the thing into Bill's car, he looks at me and says, "why don't I take the kids home, and you can take my car and just relax with some tunes on the ipod?"

Bless that man of mine!

So I drive the 15 minutes it takes to get home by myself. In utter and complete silence. I thought about the ipod - but silence was just so delicious. I felt the tension begin to unwind from that spot between my shoulder blades.

When I got home, the house was empty. I got an entire load of laundry going before I heard the van arrive in the garage.

Bill and I unloaded the kids, and he went to go mow the lawn (which he's been trying to do for DAYS, but things kept getting in the way) and I went to put the kids to bed.

Which was when the craziness began all over again.

So, after two hours of wrangling the kids into bed, we are relaxing now on OUR bed with some bad-for-you food and an episode of Battlestar Galactica.

Only two more hours before Wednesday is officially over, and I can be sure that it hasn't defeated me.

A lot can happen in two hours.

7 comments:

Jeff and Ari said...

What a day!! I'm sorry to hear it was so crazy ... just hearing about it made me stressed for you! Way to conquer it though :)

Nae said...

Such a crazy day must top the list of "Days I do and don't want to remember...both at the same time."

And while I was sympathetic to the insanity of your day, the way you write had me holding my tummy I was laughing so hard. :) If it makes your Wednesday any better.

Stepper the Mighty said...

Dismembered her hamburger and started shoving it down the car seat... That's my daughter, more adorably violent than anyone could ever understand.

William C. McCrery said...

Er... Thus ^ said your husband.

Steph @ Diapers and Divinity said...

I love your day, even though it was horrible, because I KNOW that day well. Almost like an old friend. Then I don't feel alone in the world. :)

Charms said...

Thanks for the post; I'm sorry you had a rough day but it was pretty fun to read about! :)

That Girl said...

"A lot can happen in two hours."

Ne'er a truer statement. Shoot, a lot can happen in two MINUTES.

I'm sorry.

Also, I'd be very interested in visiting Grandpa's park someday. It sounds fun!