It's a do-over! Uh,

It's a do-over! Uh, NO!

Yesterday was a day that I never wish to repeat again. The first part of the day was good. All was well, up until about 5. Then, the phone rang - it was the Hubster. Over the weekend, he had a tooth abscess, and required an emergency root canal on Saturday. He was in extreme pain and given a prescription for both Vicodin and Percocet for the pain, as well as an antibiotic. The antibiotic must not have worked, because he went back on Tuesday for the second part of the root canal and was givan a different antibiotic. He was still taking the vicodin, though, as the tooth was no longer bothering him but his ear - oh the pain! And it's slightly swollen. So, he called me, from work, to go and fill the scrip for the Percocet. Ok, no problem. I'll just put all the kids in the car at 5 on a weekeday, drive across my city to the next, during rush hour. He couldn't go, because he was the only manager in that day and there were customers lined up for hours. I get to the job, get the scrip and go to the drive thru pharmacy. Where I'm told that the wait will be one hour. One HOUR. Ok, I can deal with this. I drove to Sonic and got the kids an incredibly unhealthy fast food dinner, where I encountered my first problem of the night. Oldest son just came back from a trip with neighbors, where all he apparently ate was pizza and burgers, and he wasn't about to eat another burger. He wanted a milkshake. Being mean, and not wanting to deal with why he got a shake and no one else did, I said no. So, he got huffy and asked for a plain burger and a water. Whatever. I tried to give him other choices, like chicken or a salad, but he was just huffy enough that I didn't try too hard. We killed that hour, without too much stress and went back to wait out the last ten minutes at the pharmacy. Finally, it was ready, and the fun began. Baby Riley decided that the trip back to hubsters work was the perfect time to cry. And cry. And CRY. On our way home, she thought we couldn't hear her, so she cranked it up a notch to shriek. And then the two year old had her first diarrhea, which made oldest child start to scream about the smell and the noise, and utter the crowning glory of all comments. "I hate having all these people in my family! I HATE IT! It's too noisy and too smelly! I HATE big families!" These words are the ones that always set my blood to boil, at warp speed. Then he opens the window and sticks his head out, while I'm driving, because it's all too much for him. At this point, two year old starts to cry, because she has stuck her hand in the poop running down her leg and she can't stand dirty hands. And she goes again.

So, make a mental pic in your mind of me, driving down the road screaming at oldest child - told you I wasn't very patient - with oldest crying in the front seat, and two crying babies. The other kids knew enough to be quiet. We got home, got everyone cleaned up, after another accident, and all went to bed.

Brriiing!!! The phone - at 2:23. In the morning. It was the hubster, who was STILL AT WORK, trying to finish the heat sheet - a daily tally of work done, used at the next day's meeting. His printer wasn't working, so he wanted me to tell him how to email the heat sheet to his computer so he could print it off in his office. I'm trying to wake up, and explain how to either a) highlight, cut and paste and email, or b) make an attachment and email that, when four year old son comes in. He begins to have a freak out, because he wants to know What is that thing hanging on the door knob that looks like a lock and it has a green eye and a red eye and he wants to know NOW!!!!!! After explaining three times that it is the baby monitor, hanging on the door for better reception, I go back to trying to figure out the printing dilemma. Finally, hubster gets annoyed that I don't know how to make it work and decides to do it himself. Thank you. I get off the phone, get everyone settled, and can't sleep.

Today better be a good day. I deserve it!