Today was one of those days - the crap on a stick kind of day that makes me wish I'd stayed in bed away from the world. The kind of day where I'm glad I have a blog to pour out my rantings and where you will wish I didn't.
I woke up, got the kids dressed and fed and we headed out to the weekly play program both boys are enrolled in. The session was rolling along nicely - as nicely as a room with fifteen kids under the age of four can be - until it was time to sit together to sing wind-down songs. Oliver decided this would be a perfect opportunity to lurch at me like a flying goblin and take a bite at my boob.
Like, imagine a baby alligator coming at you and wrapping his teeth around your areola. It took all my motherly might not to yell something profane in the middle of "the wheels on the bus...". And then I actually looked down my top to check my nipple was still there.
Back at home I answered a call from the company delivering our new flooring. The driver informed me he was on his way. Thirty minutes later he pulled up outside and began unloading box after massive box onto my kitchen floor.
As I stood watching the boxes pile up, I realized useful things like the cooker and dishwasher were being obscured. For a second I envisaged take out and paper plates for the next week and a half. Which would be okay in theory if we didn't have two kids.
"Um. Is there any chance you could take these boxes downstairs?" I asked.
The guy, breathless from lugging boxes that I later discovered weighed about a thousand pounds each, looked at me somewhat bewildered and I could tell he was thinking about strangling me with his bare hands.
"No." He panted. "It's just me. And there's another forty of these boxes to bring in."
And then I started to get in a bit of a flap, because I'm super helpful and practical in these situations. The guy helped me figure out where to put the boxes so they wouldn't ruin my life for the next week.
While the boxes were being unloaded my mother-in-law called to offer to watch the kids while I took my car to get its winter tires fitted. Which I needed to do. Because driving in this city in winter without winter tires is kind of like jumping off a bridge and hoping you don't die.
I called the mechanic to ask if they could fit me in.
"Not a problem. We can fit you in now if you come right away."
Great. I rushed down there.
"Yeah, we can see you in a few hours."
"I just spoke to someone who said you could see me right away?"
"Tsk tsk tsk." Tutted the man, shaking his head disapprovingly. "They should not have told you that. No no. That's naughty."
"Okay well please can you just do it as soon as possible?"
"We'll do what we can ma'am." He said not looking confident.
Fine. It needed to be done. I wandered off for a few hours. Luckily there was a Chapters and a Starbucks within walking distance.
Two hours later, unable to reach the center to find out the status of the tires, I wandered back in the dark.
"Hello?" I said over the counter. "Is my car ready?"
"Um. Not quite."
Sigh. Sigh. Long sigh.
Thirty minutes later I watched a mechanic who looked about thirteen, drive, or rather skid my car out of the garage and park it within an inch of its life. I was out of there with my winter tires.
Done. Done. Done.
The only consolation at the end of a day like today? Wine. And chocolate.