Kinda Bad Day
I am not a morning person. Most of the time, when I get out of bed I do so grudgingly, with irritation. I feel like I never get enough sleep – sleep of good quality, that is. My nights are restless. I wake throughout the night for various reasons: the stupid dog taking up too much room, a rogue child taking up too much room, being too hot, hearing noises, having to pee. When I am allowed to sleep in, it never turns out well. I sleep in spurts and wake up feeling guilty. The cycle continues until I decide “screw it” and get up.
Today was one of those mornings. Not a morning for sleeping in, but a morning of grumpy rising.
The day went further downhill after I realized that I had somehow confused the day of the class I am taking this summer. It is an online class that I mistakenly thought was on Thursday evenings. Turns out it is Wednesday evenings. FYI – today is Thursday. FYI again – the class meets 4 times, so attendance is mandatory. Ugh.
I emailed the professor and awaited her response. Of course I am overwhelmed with embarrassment, but I am also concerned about the material I missed. Should I just drop it and try to take it again later in the year? I can still withdraw. She has not gotten back to me STILL.
Later in the morning I decided to drive up to the campus to pick up a flash drive I had turned in for a final project in the spring semester. I had coordinated my timing with the instructor, but I failed to include the unpredictable amount of time it takes my children to get from the house to the car, and then from the car to the building on campus.
By the way, do anyone else’s children hate to wear shoes? My kids take their shoes off as soon as they are seated. Anywhere. Restaurants. The grocery store. The mall. And always, ALWAYS, in the car. Do you have any idea how long it takes for one of my children to put a shoe back on? Infinity. Even with crocs.
So we arrived about 5 minutes later than I said I would. The instructor was gone but had left the flash drive for me. I was disappointed to have missed her, as I genuinely like this professor and was hoping to get some of her maternal support (she is a mom-figure for me, shut up). I trudged with the kids back to the parking garage, which included navigating a campus under construction with walkways fenced off. Did I mention the heat? Ah yes, my nemesis, the southern sun. It was hot, low 90’s.
I herded the kids back to vehicle, got them buckled in, and suddenly it wouldn’t start. Uh, what? I tried again. Nothing but strange electric-y sounds. Uh oh. I popped the hood, thinking an open hood would attract rescue from someone, but then stood there fumbling for the next 15 minutes trying to locate the secondary latch on the underside of the hood that would release it. The whole time the kids were going ape shit in the car. I ended up looking in the owner’s manual for directions on how to open the hood.
So I opened it. And then didn’t know what to do. So I called my husband. But I was in a parking garage which screws up my reception, so he couldn’t hear me well and I had to speak with a raised voice. He agreed to drive to campus from his job to help me. The kids, at this point, are both ape shit and now hooooootttttttttttt.
I dropped the hood and facilitated the children’s exit from the vehicle (“ok, we are going to go back inside, get your shoes on…where are your shoes?…no, I don’t wear them so I don’t know where they are…yes, you can bring your DS…I don’t KNOW where that game is…oh my god Ella PUT YOUR CROCS ON!”). We walked back to the building we had visited earlier and I brought the kids to the cafe on the ground floor. Since it was close to lunch time, I figured I’d see if I could them a snack. They of course wanted candy and when I said no there was a good deal of pouting. Hooray for pouting.
For some reason, my cell has poor reception on the entire campus. So now I had to sit by the window and speak loudly when my husband called to tell me he was nearby. The kids began to fight loudly with each other. My husband was lost on campus and couldn’t hear me because my cell kept cutting out. I gathered up our things and facilitated our exit from the cafe (“come on, we have to go meet Daddy…get your shoes on…no, I will not carry your DS…I’m sorry that you are too tired to carry it, perhaps you need to go to bed earlier tonight…no, we are not getting any candy…seriously, let’s GO…”). The kids played around a little outside while I tried to talk my husband through campus. The riding lawn mover frightened the kids, but the 40+ loud construction trucks milling about did not. And then the girl child announced that she had to pee, but I could not go inside because of the cell phone issue. ARRGGGHHH.
Finally, my husband found us and we rode with him to the car. Or we tried. First I directed him into the wrong parking lot. Then I sent him into visitor parking which did not connect to where I had parked. We then had to exit campus in order to re-enter from a different spot so that we could get back into the parking garage, but first we ran to a gas station so that the child could pee. Yes, it was this confusing. When we finally arrived near the car, my husband had to put it in neutral and PUSH it out of the parking spot in order for the cables to reach the battery. He had me steer and was trying to convince me to back it into an empty spot behind us but hello, both the power steering AND the brakes were not really working because it was not running.
Anyways, after charging the battery for about 15 minutes, my car finally started. The kids had been in his car the whole time, going ape shit and fighting. I revved the engine and then went to retrieve the kids and facilitate their relocation to my vehicle (“ok, Mommy’s car is working, so let’s go…get your shoes on…yes, I have the lemonade…no, you said you didn’t want anything else to eat so you just got the clif bar…well I’m sorry but it is lunchtime and gum won’t help…grab your DS… no, you can go out your door, you don’t need to climb through the front…is that your brother’s drink? then give it back to him please…. GET YOUR SHOES ON!”).
Finally, we made it home. I checked my email, no response from the instructor about the missed class. Do I just say “screw it” and drop it? I ran out to check the mail, and on a whim tried to start the car. Nothing.
When I came back inside, I tripped over the crocs laying in front of the door.