I really have tried to be nice. Really. But when you have a day like yesterday, can you blame me for being a little naughty?
Then they started eating. Eating at our house apparently requires a large helping of pestering and rude noises (remember the three boys?). Enter grumpy mood.
I wonder at 11:30 why I am so ravenously hungry. Oh, I forgot to eat breakfast. At least the kids were fed. We eat lunch. I remember to eat that.
That afternoon it started raining. Hard.
Mr. Two decided to play with his Moon Dough playset. After being told no. On the floor. With Mr. Three and his anything-on-the-floor-is-good-eating-self right there with him. Enter even grumpier mood. Mr. Two is in time out, as is the Moon Dough. Mr. Three is crying in the next room while I clean up the mess before it becomes an after-lunch snack.
Handsome Husband is gone for the evening on business and it's still raining. The fridge is looking bare, with a pomegranate, two oranges a sad bell pepper and some zucchini. Instead of braving the grocery store with three children in tow in the rain, I bum leftovers from my parents' fridge.
I put Mr. One and Two to bed after a story and a short movie. They are still awake over an hour later.
I start work on the zucchini bread I've been trying to make for a week now. Mr. Three gets into the Christmas craft box. I stop grating zucchini and clean up the mess. Then Mr. Three starts crying and gagging. He throws up a red button.
Handsome Husband comes home quickly (thank you!), and I'm off to Phoenix Children's Hospital Urgent Care for x-rays.
Luckily, no buttons anywhere else. I may be checking poop for a few days just in case.
I drive home and don't realize until I'm a mile up the road that I am going north instead of west. I also realize my minivan is on empty. Detour to the gas station, here I come.
I arrive home after 10:30 pm to sleeping children, a half-grated zucchini, and a patiently waiting husband.
Santa, I am trying. I will be nice. At least I'll try.