There are some days I'd just love to leave behind. Just move on to bigger and better things. Friday was one of those days. First of all, the baby has a cold, is getting some teeth, or both, but either way she is cranky. And slobbery. And having trouble falling asleep. Ugh. Not really so much fun. But, I suppose it's nothing a little orajel can't fix. But only if you are talented enough to actually get that stuff where it really needs to go. After three kids, I'm still practicing.
Then, the husband discovered that our cat, Thunderball, had a huge quarter-sized scabby wound on his side. We had heard him get in a fight last weekend, and Woody checked him over but didn't see anything. Well, the week goes by, we go about our business, and apparently didn't notice the huge gaping wound. So, Woody takes him to the vet to discover he needs surgery to clean the wound. A few hours later Thunderball has half his side shaved, 7 or 8 stitches and is in a very ugly mood. I don't blame him. We leave with a $400 vet bill and some dirty looks from the receptionists who think we are neglectful cat owners. Ugh. Not exactly what I had planned for Friday afternoon.
So I pick up the kids from daycare and they come home only to reveal (after one of the teachers compliments me on my well behaved children) that they are extremely tired. Extremely tired translates into monstrously cranky. The request to pick up Barbie in the middle of the floor is suddenly made to sound as if it's slave labor and apparently Barbie has gained 375 pounds because Viking Princess sobs that she can't do it and needs help to do this tiny little task.
Then it is the absolute end of the world when Mommy has to read T-bone a book for bed instead of Daddy. This causes an all out world war 3 crying tantrum that can only be rivaled by a toddler who has just had all his toys stolen from him by a scary circus clown. Seriously. The tantrums that occur in this house over nothing are to be admired. I wish I had that much energy. If only they knew how lucky there were to be forced to go to bed at a decent hour!!
All the while little Punky is shedding the tears in her crib probably because she is in some kind of pain or has too much snot flowing out of her nose. Thankfully she can't pull herself up and get out just yet.
Eventually they all fall asleep with ghostly streams of dried up tears running down their faces. And there is really nothing left for Mom and Dad to do but open a bottle of wine, turn on the tv and enjoy the rare silence from upstairs.
Then, the husband discovered that our cat, Thunderball, had a huge quarter-sized scabby wound on his side. We had heard him get in a fight last weekend, and Woody checked him over but didn't see anything. Well, the week goes by, we go about our business, and apparently didn't notice the huge gaping wound. So, Woody takes him to the vet to discover he needs surgery to clean the wound. A few hours later Thunderball has half his side shaved, 7 or 8 stitches and is in a very ugly mood. I don't blame him. We leave with a $400 vet bill and some dirty looks from the receptionists who think we are neglectful cat owners. Ugh. Not exactly what I had planned for Friday afternoon.
So I pick up the kids from daycare and they come home only to reveal (after one of the teachers compliments me on my well behaved children) that they are extremely tired. Extremely tired translates into monstrously cranky. The request to pick up Barbie in the middle of the floor is suddenly made to sound as if it's slave labor and apparently Barbie has gained 375 pounds because Viking Princess sobs that she can't do it and needs help to do this tiny little task.
Then it is the absolute end of the world when Mommy has to read T-bone a book for bed instead of Daddy. This causes an all out world war 3 crying tantrum that can only be rivaled by a toddler who has just had all his toys stolen from him by a scary circus clown. Seriously. The tantrums that occur in this house over nothing are to be admired. I wish I had that much energy. If only they knew how lucky there were to be forced to go to bed at a decent hour!!
All the while little Punky is shedding the tears in her crib probably because she is in some kind of pain or has too much snot flowing out of her nose. Thankfully she can't pull herself up and get out just yet.
Eventually they all fall asleep with ghostly streams of dried up tears running down their faces. And there is really nothing left for Mom and Dad to do but open a bottle of wine, turn on the tv and enjoy the rare silence from upstairs.
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