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Bad Day

There are some days when it would probably be better if I didn’t post. When the dog throws up within the first half hour I am awake, that might be a clue that it is not going to be a particularly good day.

I didn’t expect it to be a good day anyway. Yesterday was not a good day, so why should today be any better?

See, yesterday I blew it. The kids are not in school this week. I foolishly thought that I could keep some remnant of my regular schedule. If it hadn’t ended so badly, I would be laughing at what a dumb idea that was.

I took Cricket to walk with my friend YY like I always do on Mondays. Syd was still in bed and T. didn’t want to go. That probably would have worked. But after I got back and Brent got back from his gym time, we decided to go to REI because I wanted new skis. Beware the desire for new and expensive things. It never ends well.

Breathing deeply, I managed not to freak out at the prices of things too much. It has been more than twenty years since I last got new skis. This explains both the need for new ones and the sticker shock. I could have made the old ones work a little longer. Maybe I should have. So my feet hurt? Get over it already.

Syd came with us because he wanted a new fastener for his backpack and because he needed socks from Target for his book report (which will get points for creativity, at least, since I am pretty sure no one has ever done a sock puppet version of Crime and Punishment before). When we got back, T. was watching Word Girl. He had spent the whole morning and part of the afternoon playing Legos, surfing the internet, and watching television. I know better than to let that happen. He becomes squirrelly. He needs attention. He needs to go outside and run around. I forgot.

I was busy with one of my gazillion pre-Thanksgiving tasks, washing all the glasses in the dining room built-in and dusting out the shelves. We have a lot of glasses, ranging from Nannie Tousalin’s fragile blue crystal wine glasses to Brent’s margarita glasses. It took a long time.

When I finished, Syd began to polish silver. He likes to polish, which is good, because I hate it. We have a lot of silver, too, thanks to a great-grandmother who loved to entertain and had household help. I went upstairs to nap for an hour since I’d been awake in the middle of the night. That was the irredeemable mistake.

I woke to the sound of both kids shouting. I came down the stairs to find T. both in tears and hitting Syd. T. seems to have needed attention. He pestered Syd until he got attention he didn’t like and then melted down. I wasn’t there to diffuse things. I wasn’t there to pay attention.

Despite my best efforts, this ended with T. running off down the block, shoeless, coatless. My best efforts suck.

Today I have to try to do better. I’m taking Syd to the gym this morning. We’re collecting our unfortunate main dish for Thursday from the butcher. T.R. will come with us when we pick up ice cream for Syd’s wisdom-toothless girlfriend and drop off both the food and the human comfort with her. Then T.R. and I are going to go ice skating at the zoo. We will play outside. It will go better. It has to go better. Please.

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jan_can_too
jan_can_too

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