I'm just going to warn you on the forefront: this post is not positive. Pollyanna walked out the door around 5pm.
Today has been a "day," and since writing helps me relieve stress, well, this is just what the doctor ordered.
Let me break it down for you:
1. Drew took a 5 min. nap yesterday (Yes, I know that wasn't today, but it leads to today's problems)
2. Drew woke up last night screaming and wouldn't go to sleep. He ended up in bed with us for the first time in months. Let's just say it's amazing how 25 lbs and 31 inches takes up an entire King sized bed. None of us got much sleep.
3. Drew took a 30 min. nap today. That doesn't do a lot for him...or my showering agenda.
4. He threw his tray onto the floor at lunch, spilling food/drink everywhere. Swept the floor.
5. He climbed the stove and got into the potholder drawer more times than I can count.
6. He climbed the coffee table repeatedly. "No no" just rolls off my tongue now.
7. The tree. Oh, the tree. I'm just ready to take it down. For all the ornaments I've REhung, I think I could have decorated 10 trees from the start.
8. He bit me. Twice. Then punched me in the lip. I'm like a human punching bag, I declare.
9. He screamed outside my shower door the entire time I rushed to get clean. I know you other mothers have been through this.
10. Decided to be sweet and order pizza since my boys love it so much (and since I didn't have my coupons clipped for Kroger). Went to order online. Couldn't get the stupid site to work. (Husband says it was probably user error--thanks, dear). Searched the website and found the local Pizza Hut's number. I call. I get a recording saying this number is invalid. I hang up. I call again. Same response. I'm seriously almost in tears over this situation. I'm hungry and emotionally spent.
11. Finally find a number to get to a Memphis call center for Pizza Hut. I tell the girl I've almost been in tears for 15 minutes trying to find a phone number for them. She thinks I'm crazy. Don't blame her.
12. I race out the door in my flip flops in 40* weather with no makeup on, intending to run in and out of the pizza joint.
13. I told the girl my name and she looked at me with this "please-don't-punch-me-in-the-face" look and then said, "We forgot to put it in the oven," as she crouched backwards. I must have looked evil.
14. I informed her it was alright (trying to remain a Christian woman), but also took the time to tell her the phone number was listed wrong on the Pizza Hut website. She could not have cared less.
15. As I was sitting waiting on my pizza, I looked down and saw a chunk taken out of my favorite Yellow Box flip flops. Yep. Drew ate my shoe. Grand.
16. I walked in the door 20 minutes later with the coveted pizza. My husband takes one look at it, then looks at me like I walked back in with squash casserole or something. "This isn't a large!" he said. That's when I realized I ordered the wrong size. The pizza just must not have been meant to be.
17. Drew threw his tray on the floor again. Swept again.
18. Drew spilled his milk on the floor on accident...twice.
19. Drew spilled his milk on the table and himself...purposely.
20. Drew fell off his train, slid across the floor, and slammed his head into the oven drawer.
21. FINALLY got Drew to sleep only to have him wake up as I laid him down. He then stood up screaming and with his eyes closed, accidentally slammed his head into his crib twice. He was wide awake then!
So here I sit. I have not yelled. I have not lost my temper. I admit I did privately punch the couch cushion earlier and have cried 3 times. But tomorrow is another day. At 7:50am sharp, when Drew wakes up, we'll let Pollyanna waltz back into our house. But for now, Negative Nancy is sharing the couch with me and we feel loads lighter after getting this off our chests.
It's bedtime. Hallelujah. Can I get an Amen?