My house looks like it exploded.
No, it looks like a pinata full of life exploded.
There are dirty dishes in the sink, three baskets of clean clothing in the dining room, Pokemon cards are spread out on the floor and mommy’s earrings are on the coffee table….and the kitchen window sill….and the TV armoir *smile* I love earrings.
I have failed in so many ways this week, a fallen quiche post wouldn’t cover it.
My failures were then topped with the cherries of uncontrollable circumstances. This must have been a fallen quiche kind of week. Let me elaborate.
- Not one, but two cars killed by hypothermia.
- Not one pair of clean jeans on the day my child is required to wear them for a concert. Of course we noticed at 6:15pm. We were supposed to arrive at 6:30.
- One pair of beautiful suede boots succumbed to salt poisoning.
- 0 degree weather which is oh so very lame.
- I forgot to send at least 4 emails promised.
I am just going to stop now. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.
I am not for dwelling. In truth most of these things made me laugh. I mean honestly, both cars. What can you do but laugh? I’m a little pissed about the shoes. So if you happen to know how to fix that, I’d be eternally grateful.
At the end of this week, my children are all whole and (mostly) healthy. My husband was there to fix my swagger wagon. A girlfriend gave me a ride to work. A girlfriend who just happens to offer awesome back up baby care for my darling littles. Did I mention my nanny had a minor surgery and needed a few extra days off to heal? Oh, that’s right. I stopped the list early.
The trend I noticed in my comedy of errors routine was this. I was not alone. All though no one has fixed my shoe issue (another plug for save the shoes) my car is up and running, my children were cared for and they sang beautifully in dirty jeans and an ill-fitting tie dye t-shirt*. Tears welled up, dirty laundry on the stairs scooped up on the way to my lap top and a warm Charlie dog curled up next to me.
Like I said, a pinata full of life exploded, then we rolled in it.
*When the teacher asked us to send in a shirt my guy sent one in. I didn’t double check the man who constantly holds things up while doing laundry to ask which child wears the 2T pants. My bad. I begged my seven year old to be conservative with arm movements in his performance. He looked a little Winnie the Pooh.