Seriously. I wanted to kill someone. Or at the very least drive them off the road. I couldn't believe how ticked off every other driver on the road was making me today. Like all the idiots conspired together to be on my path all at the same time. It must be hormones.
Or maybe it was the fact that I'd just tried to go to the Goodwill with all my kids while their daddy was getting his wisdom teeth pulled. It sounded like a good idea. I am in desparate need of some clothes. I just can't ever seem to get to the thrift store, or if I do I spend the money on the kids (why can't they invent clothes that grow with the kids??). So since I had to wait around town for 2 hours I thought, hey, I'll just go see what I can find. Maybe come home with a new top or two. *insert sarcastic laughter* Right. I wasn't in there 5 minutes before all three of those little imps, I mean, children, were fussing. Including the baby who is usually more than happy to be toted around in the Baby Bjorn. But I kept on. Through all the dirty looks and sympathetic stares of the other shoppers, and the escalating noise that I pretended wasn't coming from my cart. ("Gee, whose annoying kids are screaming?? You'd think people could keep their kids under control!!" :P)I kept hanging clothes on the handle of the cart to try on since there wasn't room in the cart for them. It wasn't until I had gone through the entire women's section and stopped at the dressing rooms that I noticed that Faith had been UNhanging them and dropping them on the floor. (!!!) Looking back, I noticed the very efficient clerk picking up one of my shirts and hanging it back up. Gaaa!!! Didn't she have anything better to do than follow me around and pick up the clothes I spent precious time picking out?!?!?! Oh well...two cute tops remained on my cart. I pushed the entire cart, screaming kids and all, into the dressing room and tried them on. They didn't fit. They made me look fat. Why can't they make clothes for real people? And why can't they make 15 passenger shopping carts?
Then the phone rang: "Your husband is ready for you...would you like to come pick him up?" (I only briefly thought about saying no. Only briefly.) I drug the cart out of the dressing room, payed for a couple of dresses for the girls, and piled my crying children into the car. Upon arriving at the surgeon's, I found my very loopy husband trying to explain to me that he was fine with a mouth full of gauze. The nurse told him not to talk.
After arriving at home, everything got worse. Faith wouldn't take a nap and kept finding banana peels to put in the most inconvenient places; Kailey filled a cup full of spit and rubbed it in Baby Joel's hair (who then had to have a bath); I made her go outside where she screamed bloody murder until her grandma came running through to woods thinking one of the kids was dying; Sky just laid on the couch and couldn't even get himself a glass of water (yup, shoulda left him) and I kept cleaning only to turn around and find the girls undoing everything I just did. And I'm still ticked at all the stupid drivers.
But I suddenly remembered something. Earlier, after trying on those two shirts at the Goodwill, I put my own shirt back on. Kailey immediately stopped crying and exclaimed happily, "OOOH! Now you're Mommy again!!" :^) And Faith counted clearly to 5 on her fingers today all by herself, several times, without any prompting (a HUGE step!). So I guess my life isn't so bad after all. Crazy, yes...but at least I'm able to eat my chocolate chip cookie. Unlike my husband who almost agreed to my proposition to stick a cookie in the blender for him. Poor man.
One of these days I'm going to have to get myself some new clothes, though......