Bad Day Perspective

Yesterday was not my best day. Timmy had a difficult time sleeping the night before, forcing me to yet again see the sun rise with less than 2 hours sleep.  In my sleep deprived stupor, I put my coffee cup under the Baby Breeza formula maker spout and Timmy's bottle under my Keurig.  Thankfully I caught the mistake before feeding Timmy my coffee, but not before I took a rather large swig of baby formula.  If I had the opportunity, I would have just gone back to bed.  But Timmy surely wouldn't understand the Mommy-do-over, so I put the bottle and coffee mug in the sink and started again.

Robby did nothing to enhance my morning enjoyment. Instead of my sweet little Koopa, Robby Rotten sauntered out of his bedroom. After a few attempts to say good morning only to be scuffed off, I had no doubt that he had a severe case of the grumpies. 

I hate clashing with Robby, but I love him enough to discipline him when necessary. In the period of 30 minutes he managed to lose every electronic device and was banned from the television. As I gathered up the cupcakes, cake, birthday gift and cards I secured for him to give to his teacher for her birthday, I began to fully appreciate the irony of being called the "World's Meanest Momom." 

 I love him to death, but he becomes extraordinarily dramatic when he is being reprimanded. My "You need to respect and not sass me" conversation was immediately skewed and regurgitated as "You hate me and you never want to hear me talk again."  I assured him that I will always love him to the moon and back, and reminded him that he is a good person who made a mistake. Trying to explain that I am punishing him because I love him is a lost concept for an eight year old. I was arguing what he perceived as being completely illogical.  After listening to Robby Rotten complain and lament his punishment for the entire drive to school, I have to admit that I relished the silence in the car after he was dropped off.

I came home and tried to load the dishwasher only to have the rack fall off of its braces. I just left the dishes in the sink and walked away. I just don't have the energy for one more thing breaking down in this house. I sent Scott a text and asked him to add superglue to the grocery list. 

The remainder of the morning was spent combating creeps on Facebook. I don't know if it is season, but aggressive devotees seem to be strutting their feathers lately! I am fairly easy going, but I have no tolerance for individuals who reap sexual satisfaction through interacting with amputee women. After a cyber confrontation in which I was called horrific names which, considering the source, I opted to wear as a badge of honor. 

My afternoon was monopolized by caring for an inconsolable Timmy. He was agitated and fussy. He only stopped squirming and fussing long enough to vomit all over me which he did repeatedly throughout the day.  I hate seeing him so uncomfortable and feel both helpless and frustrated when I can't calm his colic. 

To top off my terrific day, Scott had to go to the dentist after work. Yes, the dental drama is live and well in our household. I tried to be supportive by pointing out that this was just a routine cleaning. I was summarily told that I was being dismissive. I know enough that when the dentist is involved, I can do nothing right. I gave up and finished my stash of chocolate truffles.

On my way to pick up Robby from school I was close to my wits end. I was exhausted, covered with baby vomit, feeling disrespected and just plain sad. As I turned the corner near a major intersection I saw a bicyclist being struck by a car. I immediately pulled over and ran to see if I could be of assistance.  By the time I arrived, the cyclist was standing and, although shaken, appeared to be okay. 

All of a sudden my bad day didn't seem so bad. I guess it is all about perspective.