One of THOSE Days

When the alarm went off this morning, I didn't argue with it quite as long as usual. I knew there were about 1,000 things to do because the kids and I have been sick. No point in putting it off, (despite the fact that I am a world class putter offer.) Up I rose, made the kids eggs and grapes for breakfast and woke them up. I took the dog out and had to stand in the damp grass because he didn't want to leave the porch.  UGH Wonderlump, UGH to you and my wet slippers. 


 Still, this is just how morning is for us. I got back in and Laura-Elizabeth was playing up her sniffling and cough while Conner just sat there making no attempt to get ready. Ah yes, morning! I gave them individualized speeches and an implied threat and sent them off to get ready while I changed the littles, wrote LE's sick note and signed agendas. I tucked LE's note into her trapper keeper and signed C's homework page. Then, as I went to initial his agenda in his folder, I saw the red face. At our school, a green face with hair means that your kid had a great day. A yellow face means they had a good day after a warning of some sort. An orange face without a smile means that the child had to be corrected past a warning. A red face means that after a warning and correction, the child continued to misbehave. There is actually a purple face that means something like, we are considering caning your child and putting him in the stockade (just kidding.) There is a purple face and I think it means your child went to the Principal's office. I should mention here that I love C's teacher and she goes way out of her way for him, therefore, I am certain that he really earned this red face. I also know that she wrote me a note to explain whatever happened except that my son has done away with it. I asked him to give it to me and, of course, he has no idea where it was. He proceeded to illustrate this by dumping everything out of his backpack, the backpack of a hoarder-who has had a sick mother, who has not forced him to pick and choose between the paper scraps and bazillion works of academia and art in his bag for 2 days. LOVELY!!! Irritated, I write the teacher a note to let her know that I had not seen hers and that I would deal with my son and stuck it in the folder in his backpack. "Let's go!" I yelled trying my best to maintain my cool; no point in letting yesterday's issues mess up today. 


 That's when he said it, my sweet, first grade ball of love and cuteness (he of the red face) said, "But Mom, you didn't put socks in my organizer." 


 "Conner, are there no socks in your drawer?" 


 "Um, I'll check..." Really? He just sat there waiting for me to ask him about the fact he had no socks and shoes on rather than letting me know that I had skipped Wednesday's cubby with socks or--heaven forbid--reaching into his own drawer and pulling a pair out! I'm pretty sure my face matched the one on his agenda at that point. Never the less, with C properly shod, we all marched out to the van, prayed on our way and I dropped the bigs off with a smile.


 Next on the agenda, hit the store with the littles to get ingredients for veggie soup and cornbread for dinner. We made it a quick trip, I only purchased one item not on my list!!! I was proud, red face fading into the background. So I drove home. In the driveway, I handed Mylie a light bag to carry and loaded the other 3 onto my right arm so I could carry Isaac in the right, (he can't walk without a walker and we have steps leading into the house.) So I throw Isaac up on my hip and he pulls one of his least pleasant tricks, the one where he goes completely limp rather than assisting me in carrying him in any way. At this point, I decide the best thing is to dash inside so I can plop him on the couch as I cannot think of a good way to reshuffle anything to make this work better that won't involve Mylie panicking because Mommy has run back outside to grab damp groceries from the driveway. It would have been okay but I have lost a few pounds and the pants I was wearing started sliding down my leg along with my son. I am pleading with Mylie to go in the door so that I can get inside before my pants actually hit my ankles and she is picking me a bouquet from my potted plant on the porch which never gets a chance to bloom because it is always, always plucked of its plumage by this princess. A billion cars are flying past, my hind end is exposed to the elements but hidden by a long shirt, thank goodness, and I finally step in the door, toss down my groceries, put my son on the floor and pull up my pants. I thank Mylie for the bouquet and put up the groceries. 


 Then, it dawns on me this is one of those days. It's one of those days where I try to remain positive and life makes it hard; where I can breathe through only one nostril, where I will wonder all day what my son did to get a red face, where my slippers will get soggy and my little son will play wet noodle, where I will very nearly provide adult entertainment for the poor unsuspecting hoards of people driving up my street on their way to work and school. This is one of THOSE days where I have to make a choice. I can decide, here and now, whether to let this make me grumpy and irritated or if I will decide to laugh, because it's kind of hysterical. I can decide to let my morning make the friends who read my blog smile. I can decide and I have. So, red faces and near moonings aside, I hope you smile friends. I hope, like me, you decide to look this day in the face and keep on going. That is what I am going to do!!!