Okay, so I know that this is not even remotely deep or profound today, but sometimes you've just got to bitch and moan. So my hubby sailor left Monday morning (at the butt crack of dawn) to head out to sea for the first time in three years. Can we just say this was not exactly an auspicious start to the week. I mean really, did it have to be Monday morning? My three year old woke up way too early and spent the entire day driving everyone crazy, so that by the time her bed time rolled around, my older two actually asked me if it was always going to be like that when daddy's gone. After the 10 hellish patrols we put in the last time my husband was on sea-duty - in which everything that could happen did, the pessimist was thinking, yeh, pretty much. But I did my best to overcome my bad attitude so as not to sour them, and said of course not, blah, blah, blah. You get the idea.
Yesterday, smooth sailing. Caught up on a few projects I needed to get taken care of, cleaned the house top to bottom, ended the day with a movie and bowl of popcorn, enjoying the sole possession of the remote control.
Today was my oldest son's field trip. Of course as soon as they got where they were going he started throwing up. I was by then 40 minutes in the opposite direction trying (and I say trying) to get Easter all wrapped up, when the school calls me. By the time I would make it up there to pick him up, they would be leaving to head home anyway. I finally meet him at the school when they get back, and he comes dragging in wearing his winter jacket (it was like 75 out today) and not looking so good. His lips were cracked and purple, and he was carrying his uneaten lunch, including his juice. So he had been out in the sun on this field trip all day long and had not had anything to drink, nothing, zippo, big fat nada in the Georgia heat, I mean, duh. Can we get any dumber? And they honestly couldn't figure out why he was sick!?!?!?!?!? I wanted to hurt someone at this point...
I get him home, hydrated and doctored up with Ibuprofen to get his fever down, and within an hour he ate lunch, got up off the couch and went and played the rest of the day. Dinner appetite was fine, and he's bummed that he can't go to school tomorrow because of their 24 hour fever-free rule.
I've got enough stress in my life managing our house, finances and three children while my husband is gone that I really don't need some idiot making my job harder because they can't even exercise common sense and get the boy a drink. ARGH!!!!!
All I could think of was that line in Robots where Fender asks Rodney, "Had a bad day? Just remember there's another coming tomorrow!"
Okay, big sigh of relief...tomorrow is another day. I am going to go have a glass of wine and soak in a very long, very hot bubble bath until all my troubles melt away and I can go to bed rejuvenated and ready to be open-minded and even excited about the possibility of another day!
And hugs to you Snowflake, MIL will soon be gone and you will be free once more!!!
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