The husband is out of town for a few days, and it's up to me to tote the bale, pull the rope, etc...
Today, by noon, I had gotten the children up, fed, dressed, and strapped into their booster seats, and I dropped Iris off across town at school on time. I got home in time for Lola's speech therapy. I met with the speech therapist to plan the next phase of speech therapy. I spoke with a family member about a difficult situation (a hard call to make, indeed, to the parent of a newborn taken away by the state). I left a message for a social worker. I did a load of laundry. I emailed the husband with a status report. I fed the foster kittens, the adult cats, and the parrot. I got the oil changed in my car. I went to the ATM for cash, and I mailed our Netflix DVD back. I went to the grocery store and bought six bags of groceries.... racing home in order to meet Lola's friend, whom I'll be taking care of this afternoon. Lola tore around in the grocery store, dangerously hopping around the cart and shouting about "teamwork! We will win!"
To treat myself, I picked up a yummy bottle of champagne, blanc de noirs, to be opened much later after the day's driving is done. As if that industry were not enough virtue, I stopped myself from browsing in the yuppie ice cream area and left sans ice cream (but with some wretched Dora the Explorer popsicles for Lola).
My forecast: by tomorrow, I'll be exhausted, crabby, and ready to bitch at the poor old husband.
No comments:
Post a Comment