S is for Sunrise

You may have noticed that I was a wee bit on the grumpy side today.

It all started last night.  Jack took three incredibly long naps yesterday.  He must be getting ready to do calculus or something really monumental, because he slept more than he was awake.

Until 11 pm, when he woke ALL the way up.  For three hours.

Yes, I was up with my darling child and his brand new fun-to-grind front teeth until 2 am.

I finally crawled to bed and fell asleep, then Mary Grace came down.  It felt like it was immediately after I fell asleep.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"What does the clock say?"

"S."

"Go back to bed."

I'm pretty sure S is for "5."  Or possibly "Sunrise."  Or "holyS*** it's early!"

Regardless, no one should wake up at S.

I tried, today.  I really did.  After we got MG on the bus, Claire, Jack and I got dressed and we went to the bank, then to McDonald's for breakfast (Claire wanted cinnamon rolls).  On the way out, as we were crossing the parking lot, this woman came BARRELING into the parking lot, she must have been doing 30. I had to push Claire back out of the way.  "SLOW DOWN" I yelled.

Then as I was backing out, some other idiot in a truck came screaming into the parking lot and didn't bother to stop, even though I was 2/3 of the way out of my spot before he turned in.  He got the Hoosier Salute and a little bit of reality-TV style arm action.

We were late for Claire's preschool open house because somehow I'd put it on the calendar for 9 - 10:30 instead of 9 - 10.  It's ok, we know the drill from last year.  But it wasn't the best way to start the year.  I promise I'll do better next week, Mrs. P and Mrs. D!

We made it through the grocery store with no fussing, which is a monumental accomplishment.  A nice lady even let us go ahead of her when a new line opened up.  We managed to get the frozen stuff put away and get to the school on time to get MG.

Home.  Lunch.  And then, somehow, it all fell apart.

I will spare you the gory details, but I ended up yelling at some poor customer service rep from Bank of America because they bought our mortgage from Huntington and they don't have a branch here, so I can't talk to real people, and it's just SO unfair and stupid, and I don't WANT to deal with them because when I get a late fee which was totally not my fault and I took care of it last month, immediately after they called me and said I'd mistakenly paid the wrong amount, but there's no real person to go talk to unless I go to flippin' Oklahoma or something, and just take the $45 off of my bill, lady, before I go postal, all right?

The kids were screaming in the background, I was crying.  It was not pretty.

She was like, "Step away from the knife drawer, woman.  I'll take it off."

Being insane saved me $45 today, so there's that.

Then Monica saw my angsty blog post and she was like, "Bring all the little children unto meeee!" and she even offered to keep them while I went and did something, but I had already been shopping so I couldn't think of anything to do, so I stayed and we laughed and it was all ok again.

Jack fell asleep on the way home, and I dropped the kids off at Grandpa's so I could sneak in a little nap before dinner.  BJ handled almost all of bedtime.  I'm about to go get some ice cream.  It's going to be ok.

Mama said there'd be days like this.  *sigh*

Looking forward to a long weekend, here.  How 'bout you?