Yesterday I had one of those days where everything just seemed to go wrong. First of all, I overslept. As I dashed around the house trying to get everything together, the kids were whining constantly. There is a direct correlation between my level of stress and my kids' whining. It doesn't take SPSS for me to confirm that correlation, either. (That one is for you Self-Made Mom!)
During all this running around, I briefly considered whether or not I should have my older son (OS) stay at preschool for lunch since I had a doctor's appointment that morning. However, it was supposed to end well before I needed to pick OS up at preschool. Honestly, the last thing I wanted to do when I was running late was prepare an unneeded lunch. After a battle with OS to get him into the car and to preschool because he was having one of those days, I was able to drop him off, and my younger son (YS) and I headed off to the Y.
After dropping YS off in the Y's childwatch, I enjoyed my spinning class. I then headed up to the locker room with only about 10 minutes to take a shower before I had to pick up YS and leave for the doctor's appointment. Unfortunately a very chatty woman approached me as I was changing to get into the shower. First of all, I think it's an unwritten universal rule of life that if you see someone undressed or in the process of undressing, you shouldn't go up to them and start up a conversation. (Okay, Big Giraffe, there may be exceptions to that rule, but not at the Y.) This woman was giving me the third degree about what type of workout I had done (presumably because I was sweating like a man but really I have no idea) and then she went on to explain why she personally didn't like spinning. In my haste to get away from her, I grabbed my bottle of leave-in conditioner instead of my shampoo and unknowingly washed my hair with conditioner. When it wasn't sudsy, I checked the bottle. I was low on time, and I didn't want to deal with the chatty lady again, so I didn't go back for my shampoo.
After dealing with annoying traffic and YS's stroller that really needs to be replaced and doesn't open easily, my greasy hair and I got to the doctor's appointment without a minute to spare...or so we thought. Right away the receptionist told me the doctor was running a half hour late. That actually is really unusual for her. I called OS's preschool to see if he could spend 10 minutes in the lunch group after class. No problem.
I had a good appointment with the doctor. That is a separate post though, except that I will share that I was offered some sample prescription eye cream samples. Unfortunately, as my greasy hair, YS, and I reached the elevator on our way out of the office, I realized that I had never the samples that I needed. I went back in. The doctor had already left, and no one knew where the eye cream could be found. I kept insisting that I could come back another day (sans grease in my hair), but the staff kept telling me that they would find it. They called the doctor on her cell phone and still couldn't find it, so after all that wait, they called in a prescription.
So what did all this mean? By the time my greasy hair and I got to the preschool, the lunch hour was over. I felt horrible. OS didn't have a lunch! I pictured him sitting sadly at the table while all the other kids ate their turkey sandwiches or whatever else their parents had packed; not to mention it was way past his lunch time. I was practically in tears because I felt so bad. I walked in and immediately apologized to him. The teacher pulled me aside and said that actually OS never asked for his lunch and was really happy playing the whole time. While I appreciated her words, that didn't make me feel any better. He knew that I hadn't packed a lunch for him today. Nothing was going as planned anyhow, so in my extreme guilt, I offered to take OS to McDonald's. He was thrilled. How ironic is it to spend 50 minutes killing myself with spinning class only to set foot inside of McDonald's? We all took mandatory naps when we got home. The day drastically improved. A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Greasy hair beats wearing a squirrel on your head.
I personally will never understand the concept of conversing naked at the gym. I don't care if it's with your best friend. On the other hand, it is unfortunate you had to spend your day with greasy conditioner hair, but better than the time I went to the gym and forgot to bring a clean pair of undies with me.
Next time she approaches you in the gym, tell her all about your "yeast infection" or something equally pleasant. There was a woman like that at my gym for awhile. She would come up to me like 3 days after the last time she cornered me and ask if I had lost weight. Uh, in THREE DAYS?? lol
Rushing out the door in the morning is the worst. I am still having trouble adjusting to kindergarten (since we have to be there at a specific time--unlike day care where there was flexibility in the drop-off).
When I first joined my old gym (which has subsequently been torn down along with two parking garages to make way for luxury condos, just what the neighborhood needs more of), women used to stand around in groups, naked and chatting, and applying lotion to themselves. I seriously thought I accidentally stepped into some kind of porn movie set, as I was sure that this didn't happen in real life. The weird thing is that those weird moments only went on for a few months, and then I guess more normal women joined the gym since I didn't have to deal with their bent over asses in my face as they applied lotion for too long. (I'm also convinced that this is why the gym was demolished: not enough action in the locker room to fulfill the male fantasies of the world.)
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
I'm stressed out just reading that!