It all started when I realized I’d left my purse at church.
My husband and I share one car, and he had to get to work; so we piled the kids in the car, barefoot and all, and dropped him off before returning home to grab lunch. Afterwards, I drove out to the church to retrieve my purse.
I parked the car, unloaded the girls, went inside, retrieved my purse, returned to the car, strapped the girls back in, and started the engine. I reached for my purse to get my phone…I looked for my phone…I hunted for my phone…I took everything out of my purse and peered hopefully inside…but no phone.
So, I unstrapped the girls, led them back into the church, found my phone, returned to the car, strapped everyone down yet again, and headed home.
On the way, I stubbornly insisted on stopping at a couple of garage sales, despite my dwindling schedule: my daughter was overdue for her nap and I still had a mountain of dishes at home waiting to be washed (not to mention an afternoon lesson that was getting closer and closer).
At our second garage sale, my two-year-old looked up at me and told me she had to go potty. Thankfully the woman there let us use their bathroom. I felt a twinge of obligation to thank her by buying something, but there was just nothing that I needed or wanted, so we left.
Back at home, I double-dutied by feeding my nine-month-old while reading a story to my preschooler before her nap. With the older finally in bed, I was able to tackle the monstrous kitchen. It literally took me an hour to wash those dishes (note to self: don’t put off buying dishwasher detergent next time). However, I managed to convince myself that it was a therapeutic task (ha!).
Right as my student arrived, I heard a cry from the bedroom. When I checked in on my daughter, she looked up at me and uttered the dreaded words, “Mommy, I had a accident.”
I excused myself from my student to tend to the situation; working as fast as I could, I got her all cleaned up. Then, because her nap had been cut short, she started crying inconsolably for me to hold her. Then her sister decided to start crying too. Pretty soon I wanted to join in their chorus!
Somehow things eventually calmed down. That is, until I heard the sharp cry of pain from the kitchen.
You see, earlier today my daughter tossed her glass into the sink like she does with all her dirty dishes. However, those dishes are usually plastic. This one was glass, and it broke. I had carefully placed the broken shards in an empty box (the dishwasher detergent box, actually) and folded it over before tossing it into the trash.
For reasons I simply cannot explain, my daughter had decided to open that box and reach inside, and I found her with a badly sliced finger. Again, I excused myself from teaching to tend to the situation (thankfully this family is very understanding!). I got her all bandaged up and resumed teaching.
Once I finished teaching, we moved directly into dinner mode
Then we all piled into the car again to get Daddy.
Oh, and my mile-high mound of laundry in the basement has returned.
Sometimes, the best thing to do after a day like this is to simply go to bed. 🙂