It’s 9:30 PM. I am, somewhat remarkably, already in bed.
My nightie has spit up, pizza sauce, and dog hair on it, but all my other nursing wear is in the laundry (which I’m behind on) so this will do.
I had one of those days where I was disappointed in myself. Partially due to my busy weekend, I wasn’t adequately prepared to teach today and feel like I pushed my students farther behind my timeline than we already were. We spent an hour talking about current events in AP, which was edifying, especially with Election Day tomorrow, but they needed to be drafting an AP essay, and I’d run out of time to make copies. Discussing the news was more of a diversion than anything else.
I got home with Spartacus around 5:30. It looked like rain, so I went into the backyard to pick up some leftover grill stuff before the storm.
While outside, my best friend calls from Minnesota, and while talking I discover our bottle of lighter fluid has a leak which I promptly get all over my hands.
While attempting to stay on the phone, I go into the garage to dispose of the broken bottle when I drop the call.
My husband comes home right when I reconnect the call and thinks I’m talking to him through the garage.
Baby starts crying.
I attempt to feed Spartacus while still on the phone and gesturing at Hubster that I’m on the phone.
In her excitement over having all her people home I’m the same ten minutes, Annabelle pees on the carpet.
I try to move Boy into the nursery, only to discover a morbid scene where Annabelle had gotten into a stack of books I had purchased at last week’s Scholastic book fair for Christmas presents, and torn several to shreds, including a copy of the adorable “Time for Bed” from Spartacus’ library.
I hung up on my dear friend, passed off the boy, sat down and wept the tears of the irrational, sleep deprived mother.
We ordered a pizza for dinner, ate it with beer and Netflix, and went to bed early.
Hopefully soon I can write an update about how school is going, but I have a feeling it won’t be this week…
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