My day was going great until…
8:15 a.m.: Jack freaks out because he has to return his library book at school today. He is absolutely not down with that. Tears and yelling ensues.
9 a.m.: Sam and Jack are at school. For no discernible reason, Quinn starts yelling at me, “I don’t like ya’! I don’t like ya’!”
9:50-10:05 a.m.: I’m driving to a park that I’ve been to dozens of times and drive an entire mile past my turnoff. I struggle through a traffic jam clusterfuck before I realize that I’m nowhere near where I’m supposed to be.
10:15 a.m.: We arrive at the park. Quinn immediately demands to eat lunch.
11:05 a.m.: Quinn insists that the tree he is banging a stick on is his. No other kids are to come near it. I edge closer to him in case he decides to take action against the small befuddled child trying to bang a stick on the same tree.
1:43 p.m.: A FedEx box completely defeats me. I rip it to shreds to get at the contents inside.
2:00 p.m.: I decide to make apple crisp with the apples Quinn picked at the apple orchard yesterday. I’m past the point of no return when I realize we don’t have any stick butter in my entire house. In fact, all we have are scrapings from a tub of spreadable butter. I collect 1/2 cup of spreadable butter and wonder how it will affect a recipe that asks for 1/3 cup of stick butter.
2:12 p.m.: I’m on the phone with Ruby Tuesday when I give up entirely and let Quinn eat a chunk of brown sugar.
2:15 p.m.: Having elicited promises of gift cards from Ruby Tuesday, I get off the phone and take away the sugar.
2:16 p.m.: Quinn objects.
3:20 p.m.: A neighbor takes Sam right after school for a playdate. Things are looking up!
4:50 p.m.: On the walk back from picking Sam up, Quinn falls and wonks his head on our sharp wooden porch steps.
7:10 p.m.: I walk in circles around the house trying to get away from my kids, all of whom are trying to talk to me. I am on the phone with Jack’s aide, who is calling from home to give me advice. I am also trying to take notes in my own communication notebook. My frantic finger waving does nothing to stop my children.
7:30 p.m.: It’s bedtime for Team Stimey. Because Sam had a playdate, karate, dinner, and then chase Mom in circles around the house time, tonight bedtime is known as Sam Starts His Homework Time.
7:55 p.m.: Sam takes 16 years to read his assigned book.
8:07 p.m.: Sam finishes his homework.
8:08 p.m.: I check out for the night.
But, hey. It could have been worse.