Let me start by saying, I am not a big drinker. I'll have a drink when we're out socially, and I might have a glass of wine with dinner once every three months. But today I just had one of those non-stop, Mommy Marathon, don't-sit-down-once (unless you count the time driving the car shuttling the kids from one place to the next sitting) kind of days. And at nearly the end of it all, I just really wanted a glass of cold riesling. Here's why:
Wake to more snow and stress that the bus will be late again and Maddox will miss his 4th swim class in a row of a 7-week session. Get up, shower, realize that Camden is "too sick" to go to school, shuffle Logan out the door to a bus that is only 7 minutes late (praise the Lord), grab a cup of coffee and rush off with two kids to swim class. Clean up spilled cocoa at the Y, "I just don't know how that spilled, Mom", towel dry a blue 5 year old and head to the grocery store. Shop with two boys who whine and complain that I don't let them get anything good to eat three quarters of the way through the store. By the frozen foods, I relish in the idea that I can actually hear the grocery cart wheel squeaking because they are finally quiet. Check out, load the car, and Camden announces that he forgot his book and timer bookmark at the Y. Back to the Y with a trunk full of groceries. He retrieves the book and timer, we head home to unpack groceries to find that there's a foot of icy snow lying at the bottom of the driveway (darn plows!). Yell at boys to not step in the 4-inch deep puddle because "those are the only boots you have to wear all day!" Unpack the groceries, grab shovel, go into near cardiac arrest shoveling 500+ pounds of icy snow mix. Head inside, make lunch, scoff down lunch, brush Maddox's teeth, run out the door yelling at Camden that we are going to be late and to hurry his butt. Drop Maddox at school, pay his tuition 8 days late, return his Cheerio project one day late, and supply his tissue box Valentine mailbox one day early (score one point for team Mom!). Run to BJ's for milk and vitamins, walk out with half a dozen other miscellaneous items. Race home, unload {again}, drive to school to pick up Logan for an early dismissal. Head to the orthodontist for, not one, but two children who will eventually need braces and who-knows-what-else orthodontic work. Sit through both appointments in a slight panic that I won't get out in time to pick up Maddox at school. Call Mom to be on back-up alert for the pick-up. Scoot out of the office only after doing the through-gritted-teeth hiss-of-a-yell at the boys as they dawdle through the prize box for just the right treasure to take home and clutter up the house. Run through the puddle-infested parking lot trying not to break an ankle or land face down in a puddle and rush the kids into the car. Check the time: 3:08 Hmmm, I think I can travel halfway across this town and halfway through the next to pick up Maddox in 12 minutes. Call Mom, "Stand down, back up plan; I've got this mission." Ten minutes later, and five miles and two minutes to go, "Ummm, Mom, could you just run over to grab him, I'm not so sure I'm going to make it in time." Head to the school anyway and pass Mom who was about to get into the wrong parent pick-up line that probably would not reach Maddox until tomorrow. Yell a thanks to Mom, buzz off up the street, inadvertently cut the entire pre-k line, apologize profusely, and pop Maddox into the car. Get into the turning lane to stop at Mom's to thank her and realize Logan left his homework at the Orthodontist. Run into Mom's where Camden promptly takes his boots off and then cries when I tell him we are not staying. Discuss, tell, fight, yell (with Camden, not Mom), head all three kids back to the car, and trek back to the next town to retrieve homework. Nearly run over Logan's foot in the parking lot, learn that sometimes momma duck just needs to toss her baby into the pond and say, "swim, baby, swim", and drive around pot-holed puddley parking lot while waiting for baby duck to get his homework. Once homework is back safe and sound, get the brilliant idea to stop at children's clothing store to hunt out bargains on snow pants. Trek three boys into the store against their will, spend 8 and a half minutes searching the racks for a good deal, and head back to the car empty handed. Drive home through afternoon rush hour traffic hoping that there is a bottle of wine in the cupboard.
We're out of wine, so I settled on a chocolate martini instead.