It Can't Get Any Worse, Right?

My birthday is on 9/11.

Whenever I say it, I always get a "ohhh" response.  Yeah, it's not a great day to celebrate.  When everyone else is mourning a tragic day in our country, I never want to be the weird one wearing a Mexican sombrero in a restaurant, clapping, dancing, and blowing out candles on my triple decker chocolate, fudge, vanilla, cherry on top dessert delight!  No. 

So it is sometimes hard to want to be excited about my 'big' day.  But yesterday's birthday was no ordinary birthday.  I turned the big 3-0!  PHHHH...(suck the air out of the room)

Wow.  Leading up to this day I've had all these thoughts about what my next years will be like, God-willing.  Up until yesterday I was feeling pretty great about the future God has planned. I was in a good place...until...

I woke up yesterday.  To give you a hint, Jerad and I's motto for the day became "It can't get any worse, right?"

How could we be so stupid to repeat such a jinxing statement...??

I got up.  Worked out.  Decided to make my own birthday cake.  I wanted the kids to have some for breakfast.  I was really excited.

I hurried and got it in the oven.  I woke up Leah.  She was a grump.  She sat at the breakfast table refusing to eat, or drink.  She had the entire 6-year old stubborn look going...arms crossed, lip out, hair disheveled. 

No cake?  I was at a loss.  She said she didn't like the crust, too dry.  Fine, cut it off.  But I didn't have time to make anything else for her because her ride was to be arriving soon.  I told her she'd have to eat the cake and her yogurt, then drink her milk before leaving...(same argument every morning) because it was a long time until lunch.  Well, that flipped some type of switch in her brain.  Cake was thrown.  Milk was spilled, not by accident. 

My blood boiled.  To her room she went.

*ding, dong*  Her ride was here.  I sent her on without Leah.  Which proceeded to flip another switch within her.

She returned to clean up her mess.  In the meantime, Autum awoke.  And woke up with the mindset she needed her shoes on RIGHT AWAY.  But she could only find one.  So she followed me around in her dress, hair a mess, dragging one shoe  whining..."ssssshhhhhheeeeeeewwwwww,   ssssshhhhhheeeeeewwwwww...Momma! Momma!"

Then Blake awoke.  Covered in poop.  Head to toe.  A gigantic stinky mess.  Evidently his diaper didn't do its job during the night.


I looked at my watch 7:48...school starts at 8.  CRAP!  I changed his clothes, gave him a baby wipe bath and scooped him out to the stroller.  (it's faster to walk to school then drive from our house, too many 1-way streets on the way)  I then put Autum's one shoe on and scooped her into the stroller...both were loudly arguing this decision.  I walk back inside for Leah to remind me that it's Ride Your Bike to School Day!!!  And her tires were flat...and we couldn't find her helmet.

Oh. My. Gosh!

Thank God Jerad showed up on his way out to work and aired the tires up for me.  So on we went.  All 4 of us crying by now as we walked to school.  7:58 AM.

The neighbors yelled out a cheerful "good morning" to which we all ignored.  Which reminds me I need to apologize about that...although as bad as we all looked and sounded, I'm sure she got the picture.

We announce our arrival a block ahead of the school through tears and wailing...only to discover the entire school sitting on the front lawn awaiting a 9/11 service....ohhhh Lord have mercy!!  Leah rides ahead to get her bike racked up to much more aggravation on her part because all the racks are taken...the silence of the moment was broken by the choice words my child used.  We sent her on her way and immediately scurried off those school grounds to the tune of taps....I kind you not!  It became the theme for my day.

This was when I texted Jerad..."It can't get any worse, right?"

I returned home to bathe Blake and feed the little ones breakfast before I had to leave for work in 30 minutes!  During this time, both babes decided they didn't like the typical breakfast foods we have EVERY other morning.  They proceeded to toss every peach bite, pancake bit, and fork to the floor in distaste.  This stomach illness we've had has really thrown everyone's taste buds for a loop. 

I cleaned up this mess, left a few other suggestions to try to get them to eat, with the babysitter, and off I flew to work. 
Thank God for work, especially on days like this one.  I'm always met with hugs, high fives, and sometimes even picked up off the floor by certain bigger clients as they greet me each day.  That will put a smile on your face.

I was then served a spontaneous lunch at a new, dear friend's house, to my complete surprise.  One big highlight to my day!

Then I returned home.  Totally spacing off the groceries I was supposed to pick up for Jerad's lunch.

Upon arrival home, I head up to get Leah.  I'm immediately met with pleading questions for friends to come over to play, along with begging eyes, and droopy lips.  Today was a 'no' day, maybe tomorrow.  Well, that didn't sit well with a certain red headed child of mine.  So she pedaled her bicycle home telling me "you are the worst mommy, I hate you, and I am not going to be nice to you the rest of the day.  Hmph!" 

This attitude carried back over to the house and the rest of the afternoon was spent with crying, screaming, doors slamming, thrown snacks, belly aches, and tears.  Leah spent the evening in her room.  Autum cried for 4 of the 5 hours.  Blake rolled around on the floor with a belly ache.  And I cried.

I just kept thinking, get by until Jerad gets home.  Just get by until then.  And then he sends me a reminder text..."don't forget I have a haircut at 5 today..."

That was the straw that broke the camels back.  I put the screaming, little chubby girl in her crib to cry it out.  Gave Blake some juice and turned on the TV.  Made sure Leah was locked in her room.  And went to sit on the porch for a breather.

Jerad walked up about then and said "It can't get any worse, right?"

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

My dad came up for the night, ordered pizza to which I can't eat right now, and to which the kids turned up their noses, Leah ate in her room because she couldn't get it together, and Jerad spilled his water cup all over. 

"It can't get any worse, right?"

At least the kids went to bed easy so I could return all the phone calls I had no chance to answer or respond too all day.

Then I flipped on ESPN2 and attempted to drone out the day through the excitement of the athletes dying their way through a Camp Pendleton workout.

And went to sleep.

ONLY to be awakened to Autum's screaming at 2 AM.  I knew as soon as I opened her door. The smell...the stomach curdling smell of vomit.

3 AM...back in there to clean up more.

4 AM...back in there to console her and clean up her diarrhea all over the bed.

6 AM...Jerad's alarm clock, Autum: more crying, more mess to clean up.

6:30 AM...the whole house is up, crying, and tired.  It's a new day...whoo.hooo. UGH.
...and another morning argument about Leah eating her breakfast.

HELLO THE 3-0!  It can only get better, right?