There's nothing like finding failure at every turn on a Friday to really make you want to just sink into the sofa with a bottle of wine and box of Thin Mints. What kind of failure? Well let's see:
I was supposed to post at Midwest Parents every day this week. I made it through Wednesday before everything went off the rails. See on Wednesday, my husband sold my car. As I'd been begging him to. He called my bluff, basically, and sold it and Wednesday night I had to go pick him up at work. We don't really have another car alternative worked out just yet. I mean, we had some scenarios in the works, but nothing solid. Right now we are a one car family. With two jobs on opposite sides of the county, school in the middle, and soccer practice everywhere. Right. Brilliant.
Here's another. Today, I have the car, and my husband got a ride to work from a friend. So I ran my errands, had coffee with a mentor who shared with some something that I cannot share here, but suffice to say it rocked my world.Then I went in to do my usual volunteer work at the elementary school my kids attend, and then we went to Target to get my ten year old's new prescription filled, and then the shoe store to buy new shoes that aren't flapping open at the toe. My eight year old melted down in Target because it was all about brother and his need for glasses. Then at the shoe store, the literally came to fistacuffs over the wheel-of-fortune type spin thing the store uses for promotion.
Yes, I am that mom. I am the mom whose children break into WWE Throwdown in the shoe store, to the dissaproving eye of other customers and store clerks.
And then, in the car, my oldest breaks into "Why don't you ever give me money for grades or take me to Dave and Busters and all my friends think I'm lame because I've never been to Dave and Busters and its because you HATE ME ISN'T IT."
And I don't even have a response for that. But I do have a glass of wine. And this on repeat:
And I'm done.