This Isn't Good Either!

When I left for work this morning, my dad remarked, "Have a good day". Then, he chuckled, and said "Well, you'll either have a good day, or some more blog material for tonight!" Does the fact that I'm here blogging again give you a clue how my day went?

I was only supposed to work from 11 - 2pm, three hours wouldn't be so bad, I reasoned. I was to go to the house by 11:00, pick up the car seats, get to the school by 11:30, and pick up the girls. We would get back to the house around 12:00. I'd give them lunch, clean up lunch, then we'd have a little free time until we had to leave at 1:15 to meet their mom at the doctor's office where Bella had an appointment at 1:45. That was the plan. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it?

Instead, when I got to the house at 11, there was a note asking me to turn the oven on before we left to cook the chicken in there, and have the girls clean their playroom. I knew the "have the girls clean the playroom" part would throw a kink in the plan. The playroom is a M.E.S.S., with far too many toys, and not enough places to put them. The girls HATE to clean the playroom. It usually results in whining, bargaining, threats, screaming, stomping, crying, and lots of eyerolling (you guess who does which).

I picked them up from school. Grace had colored two pictures - one of a Christmas tree, one of baby Jesus in a manger. Bella immediately upon getting into the car demanded to know which one Grace had made for her. Grace, being ever so gracious, said she could have the Christmas tree. "I DON'T WANT THE CHRISTMAS TREE!! I WANT JESUS!!", came Bella's ever so appreciative reply. I remarked, "If I offered to give someone something, and they yelled at me, I wouldn't give them anything", to which Grace remarked, "Yea, Bella, now I'm not giving you either one!" That resulted in about 10 minutes of crying, fighting, pulling hair, and screams of "I WANT JESUS!!" over and over. After so long of that, I was wanting Jesus myself - to come and take me away, far away from there.

When we got home and I fixed lunch, I handed Bella a plate with her order - a hotdog. Then I watched as she lifted the plate to move something under it, and the hotdog rolled right off the plate, onto the floor, where the dog scarfed it up whole, like a vacuum cleaner. "Lovely", I sighed as I pulled another hotdog out of the package to cook. They were finished with lunch by about 12:30. I told them "I brought something really cool in my nanny bag, and whoever does the best job of cleaning up the playroom gets to use it first!" That actually worked pretty well, and they were done cleaning by about 12:50.

As we came downstairs to get my cool thing (Fashion Plates - remember that? I still have mine.), I stopped short, and just stared momentarily in horror...There was a huge pile of dog barf on the living room rug. You know how I feel about cleaning up kids' barf, how do you think I feel about cleaning up hotdoggy dog barf of a dog that isn't even mine? I set the girls up in the kitchen with the Fashion Plates, and mentally prepared myself for the cleaning task. I walked into the dining room to find another pile of hotdoggy loveliness on that carpet. It was now 1:00, and we needed to leave the house by 1:15. Oh, and I forgot to mention that immediately upon entering the house each day, the girls run upstairs and Grace puts on a cheerleader outfit, and Bella becomes a princess. That is what they were wearing at 1:00, while I was cleaning up dog barf.

When I realized that is what they were still wearing at about 1:10, I suddenly became a lunatic. I yelled, "GO UPSTAIRS AND GET DRESSED!!! WE HAVE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE IN FIVE MINUTES!!" with the eyebrows in full force. When Grace came down a few minutes later still wearing the cheerleader outfit, I yelled, "GRACE!! GET DRESSED!!". She started to cry, and I wasn't far from it myself, when Bella traipsed down the stairs wearing a very interesting getup that she had picked out all by herself. I didn't have time to care.

We left the house, and when they starting bombarding me with questions in the car, I said "I need to think. I have to follow these directions, and no one is to say another word until we get to the doctors, understand?". The fact that I was breathing fire, and my eyebrows were about to pop off my face, must have got the point across, because they were silent.

When we got to the office, (only 5 minutes late!!), their mom asked, "Could you stay with Grace while I take Bella in to see the doctor?" "NOOOOOOOOO!!!! I WANNA GO HOOOME!!" (in my head). "Sure" (out loud). An hour later, I finally went home.

No offense to all of you, but I really, really, really hope I'm not blogging tomorrow night. By the way, I never did turn that oven on. Wonder what they had for dinner?