Yesterday, has been renamed “the day I just barely survived.”
If stress could kill, I might be dead.
Yesterday started out great! We had our BIG ultrasound. We successfully learned three important things: 1. Drinking a cup of coffee before an ultrasound leads to a very busy baby. 2. Jack maintains his certitude that it’s a boy. 3. I can’t read an ultrasound. There were a few times that the tech scanned past the groin area and each time I though I saw something different. Leading me to the conclusion that I’m more uncertain and confused than ever about this baby’s gender.
So the morning was good.
Jack went to preschool. Also good.
I had to interrupt my sacred school/nap time brake to repeatedly help the husband pump and empty the brake lines. Which then lead to both confusion and delay when picking Jack up at school. We were running late and someone (not me) looked like they were starring in Grease.
We then went to our local home improvement store to get 658 things we need to build the shed. Okay, so it was 70 2x4s, 5 sheets of ply, 16 sheets of foam board, and 10 panels of exterior wall board… Oh, yes, and we can’t forget the bag of grass seed (more on that later).
So by the time we get home it’s 4:45 and a 10 year old from the neighborhood comes to play with the kids so we can focus on the load after load after load of stuff that needs to be carried around from the rented truck. Hey, hon, let’s drive the truck around back to make this easier. I say.
“But don’t drive in the neighbors yards, cause its rude and it’s really wet right… ” squish.
Well now it’s 5:50 and dark, and our truck which is rented by the hour is stuck in the mud in our neighbor’s yard. I’m trying not to kill my husband with my thoughts. Trying really hard….
Next time I’m going to say, DON’T dig up a bag of money when you’re working in the back yard and wait to see what happens. Then this way when he does the exact opposite of what I say at least some good will come of it.
I digress. So we’re stuck in the mud and I go searching for help. Apparently our whole neighborhood decided to run away, smartly. Except for our hero baby sitter’s family. So her dad, who is our good friend, comes to save our marriage, or my sanity, or maybe just the truck. After 10 minutes of squealing wheels and flinging mud I finally drive the car to freedom, and I don’t stop till I make it to the street- literally.
So we quickly put away the remaining essentials and load the kids back into the car to return the rental truck. Now it’s 6:30 and we’re back at the store, and the rental guy informs us the truck needs to be washed before it can be returned. Because the car is completely covered in what used to be our neighbors lawn.
At this point I’m ready to call it a night and give up entirely, which is a clear sign I need a vacation or more sleep or both…
By 7 the truck is washed and returned and a bag of grass seed has been purchased. It seems the least we can do is try to fix the problem. The kids finally ate dinner at about 7:40. I was supposed to be at yoga at 8:00 but after all the carrying and loading and lifiting and cooking and what-not I was basically unconscious on my couch at about 8:30.
So despite the stress and insanity of the day we all survived, including our healthy half baked fetus. Behold I am the American dream with my 2.5 kids. Now let’s grow all the way to a nice and healthy 3 kids so we can be done with the baby gestating phase of life and move on to the exclusively child-raising phase. Bring it on!