Ever had one of those days where every stinkin' thing goes wrong? I had one of those yesterday. It started with me running late. I. Hate. Being. Late. It's like my thing. I'm always on time, if not early. That probably stems back from having a mother that was late everywhere we went growing up. Not only were we always late, but my mom drove this ginormous red van (aka Big Red) that was pretty much the most embarrassing vehicle ever. Talk about a teenager's worst nightmare. Not only were we the last ones pulling up everywhere, but we were the ones in the obnoxious red bus. I made a vow at an early age that when I had control of my own life, I would always be on time.
That worked out great from about 16 to about 27, but then I had kid number 3 and all hell broke loose. It's like in a split second my life went from organized and controlled, to complete and total chaos. No matter how hard I try to manage my time, we are always late and we always forget something. At least I don't drive an obnoxious red bus, so hopefully my kids won't completely hate me.
Anyway, we were running late as usual. First I forgot to pick up an important adoption paper from our doctor's office, and then #2 had a nervous breakdown in the car when I picked her up. #3 was starving because half of his lunch was missing. I had to drive like a maniac to get #1 out of school early and take her to the dentist. Then we were late to her appointment because of stupid road construction EVERYWHERE in our hole in the wall town. We finally arrive at the pediatric dentist and the place is a zoo. People sitting in every seat in the waiting room. While we waited, #2 decides that it is a good idea to push every one of my last buttons in order to cause a scene in the crammed packed waiting area. I start giving her the what for, as I gently hold her head like I am whispering sweet words of affirmation into her ear so that I don't show everyone that could be "that" mom on the news who's head spins right before she goes bananas. In the mean time, #3 falls and blood starts squirting. Oh my bloodyness. It was everywhere. He's screaming, parents are covering their childrens eyes from the horror, someone is in the bathroom so I can't get to any paper towels, he's crying, #2's crying, I'm about to start crying. Can I get a little help around here?
Finally, the sweet lady behind the desk ushered me back and gave me a hand full of wet wipes, called the doctor over to take a look and helped us get out the door with a small bit of dignity left. Thankfully, it was a minor injury. Mouths just bleed like the dickens when split open. Who knew? Can't wait to add another little one to this crazy mix ; )