Well, that day is over.
I survived, though granted I am still trying to pull shrapnel out of my arse.
I can honestly say I had a total catastrophe/paranoid/worse case scenario/I might just lock myself in the grocery cupboard few hours.
Nothing changed. Time just moved forward. I calmed down. A bit.
Kennith is away. He is in Utah – we have spoken about him maybe seeing if he can pick up a second wife. I am not quite cutting it right now, and I am now convinced that a second wife might not be all that bad.
At the moment I can only see the perks, though I must insist on my own bathroom – that is really where I draw the line.
I can call her my sister-wife. It will be fine. Kennith says he has not been actively looking but he will try if it important to me.
Georgia is officially trying to drive me further to insanity. Today I told Connor that he is officially the “good one” because Georgia has been co-opted to being the “child who does not listen.”
On that note.
I decided to treat the kids to a healthy McDonalds dinner. They like McDonalds. Sure it dumps about a ton of crap into the landfill every day, but they can serve a burger and fries like no one’s business.
I ordered, we sat down. Isabelle went berserk.
I am seldom embarrassed by my kids in public. Isabelle officially made me embarrassed at McDonalds - and you must realise to be embarrassed at McDonalds must be impressive.
The problem with a two-year old who cannot/does not/chooses not to talk is that you have no idea why they have tears coming out of their eyes, and snot bubbles being issued from their nose whilst they are frantically pointing in a general direction and screaming.
After you have played the game “pick up everything and pass it to her and she smacks it away and screams louder” I finally twigged she wanted a cool drink she could hold, with her own straw.
Like her brother and her sister had.
I want to be very clear on this point, that the system of elimination to get to this particular result was quite wide and included (but is not limited to) : chips, a McDonalds toy, an old McNugget on the floor, Connor’s school jacket, my phone, my wallet, the McDonalds tray, the little white dish that holds the tomato sauce….
I gave Connor R20.00 sent him to the counter and said “just buy a cool drink quickly.”
Isabelle stopped crying.
I sat there and wondered exactly who was training who in this equation. How has a two-year old managed to whip my arse so well with such skill, and not using any language what so ever?
On the drive home she wanted the cool drink.
I gave it to her.
She dropped it.
I tried to drive and simultaneously dive behind my seat (whilst still strapped in and driving the car) to grab the now spilling creme soda it so it would not spill more over my already dirty car - I do have some pride you know!
I took my foot of the brake. The car lunged forward into a road. Fortunately there was no traffic. I screamed at Connor to help me. He tried to lean into the back behind the driver’s chair without taking his seatbelt off.
Isabelle is screaming like her leg is being chewed off.
Georgia is singing about fairies in rain coats.
I am staring through the windscreen wondering why I have been forsaken in this manner, and then quickly trying to calculate how much time I have until bed time.
Retrieve cool drink.
Put it in drinks holder in front of car.
Isabelle screamed the entire drive home.
I am so looking forward to this day being over … though inevitably it means tomorrow has to start.
Saturday I have two birthday parties to attend, and one birthday party to photograph in the afternoon.
Me + happy screaming children + balloons + flammable liquid = not a probable good combination.
I am exhausted right now. I need to go and wrap presents and make happy birthday cards for tomorrow morning. I know I want to leave it to tomorrow morning but that will just be chaos.
<note to self, ask pill doctor to relook at my script, really not working on so many levels>