We had a great weekend. Now we/I am paying for it. Things started going downhill Monday. We had friends over to make Christmas cookies, a gingerbread house, decorate the Christmas tree and get into the Christmas spirit. Typical sibling rivalry broke out but Sara escalated into a Carrie at the prom hissy fit. Eventually, order and calm was restored and the rest of the night was enjoyable. I had dinner with a friend and we chatted late into the night. I came home and tried to clean up the mess we left in the kitchen. I ended up spraying myself and the entire kitchen when the sink sprayer went haywire. Valuing his life, my husband refrained from laughing. Can't say I would have been able to exercise such restraint and maturity. End of Monday. Everyone is safe and still alive.
Tuesday dawns rainy and grey. We got an email from the school that Sara was mean to a girl at school. Grrrr. Have we failed in teaching her right from wrong? Did she ignore our messages about treating others as she wants to be treated? I was angry, upset and disappointed. So, we talked to her, punished her, made her make amends. I spent the afternoon running errands. Put the kids to bed and got online to order some presents. Realized my credit card is MIA. Now I have to retrace my steps. Luckily, I discover I left it at the restaurant Monday night and they have it safe and secure.
Wednesday starts with more rain. Lots of it. We send Sara off to school full of apologies and remorse for yesterday's misdeeds. Drop Christian off at school and head home to put the house back in order. Pick Christian up from school and head to the restaurant to claim my credit card. Clutching my driver's license, I proudly announce I am there to claim my ID. They look at me like I'm crazy. I'm baffled. Then I realize that I just showed them the ID that I claimed I lost. I collect my credit card and flee, leaving a wake of employees thinking I'm a big moron. They would be right. Get a phone call that notified me that my MOPS group is responsible for bringing food for tomorrow's meeting. Oops. Dropped the ball big time. Time to start baking, cooking and begging for reinforcements. Luckily, everyone took pity on me and will be bringing food. In my rush to get things baked, I mess up the directions and burn a dessert. Lovely smells fill the kitchen and now I am really in a bind. Off to the store as soon as Sara gets home. Get another email informing me that Sara's brownie troop will be doing a grab bag gift exchange tomorrow. So, I tear apart the house looking for a suitable gift. Find one, wrap it and throw it in the car. Score! Convince Sara to start her homework so I can drag her and her brother out in the rain to multiple stores. With a sigh of a tortured child, she agrees and gets to work. Has the curse been lifted? Are things looking up? Nope. Not even close.
I drag the kids through the rain puddles into Target to make a bunch of returns and buy some ingredients. My kids behave exactly as you would expect. They are playing together but they are running a little wild. So, I try to rush out. Head to store No. 2. Realize that I forgot to pick up new pajamas for Christian and our Christmas cards at Target's photo center. Rush through store No. 2, feed the kids and drop Sara at CCD. I figure at least one of us could use some divine intervention and salvation. I put Paul in charge of some of the baking to save any remaining sanity I have and rush back out into the rain back to Target. Deciding to get ahead start on packing up the car for tomorrow, I head out to the garage. I realized that I forgot about the torrential downpour when I felt my sock clad feet get soaked.
We put the kids to bed. I think the curse has been lifted. I can relax. Or so I thought. Sara has just popped out of bed for the third time. A little girl in Granger, Indiana is about to see her Mommy go all Carrie at the prom crazy on her. I wish I could say that I know tomorrow will be better but who am I kidding?
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