Today I took a day off work. I was the kind of vacation day only a working mother could take.
The day started with kindergarten registration. I knew it was only paperwork but I thought it would somehow be wonderful bonding paperwork if I brought my two pre-schoolers along with me. I should have my degree in advanced motherhood revoked for that blunder.
Justin and Morgan colored cutely for two seconds and then spent the rest of the time either scribbling on the table (a great impression for their future teachers) or fighting about the crayons. In their defense, I didn't have to complete this much paperwork to have my gall bladder removed. They took an organ out of my body and I had to write my name fewer times than to sign my five-year-old up for public school. In the stack of papers I had to complete there were SEVEN places to write our address and TEN places to write our phone number--I counted.
Then it was back across the parking lot and into the car--did I mention it was raining today--to head over to the post office. We needed to mail a gift to my island-dwelling niece. I had the guts of her gift, a damp piece of tissue paper and her address scribbled on a note pad, plus two antsy toddlers who were running around the little room attached to the hardware store that doubles as a post office in our town. Dear island-dwelling niece, if you get only one Hannah Montana flip flop in your box, Aunt Holly is very sorry but I was a bit distracted by your cousin who, when I grabbed her arm, pulled the oldest child trick in the book: the rag doll.
After dragging the rag doll and her brother hither and yon for more errands, we returned home for lunch and then were off again to pick up big brother at school.
No mid-week working mother vacation day is complete without a doctors appointment--and today did not disappoint. First-off was Justin's annual check-up, which everyone except poor little Justin knew was going to include some shots. The doctor very cleverly slipped the work vaccination into his spiel but the little patient didn't get it. The poor thing didn't know what was coming until after the nurse entered with the tray and remarked about his bravery (he was sitting on the table looking around innocently). I said he doesn't know. Then she gestured that I should break the news. And then there was a lot of crying and limping around and replacement of injection site band-aids for the rest of the day.
BUT first, some idiot mother, the kind of naive thing who thinks taking pre-schoolers with her to fill out paperwork might be fun, that same poor, poor thing booked dentist appointments right after the crippling shots. All three kids shuffled next door through the rain to the pediatric dentist, a very perky lady who gets very few kids whose favorite animal is pig.
I was in the waiting room reading about Michelle Obama's toned arms but I heard later that Justin screamed half the time and Morgan hopped up in the chair and announced that she has cavities because she eats a lot of chocolate chips. Turns out, she has three teeth that are melting like bad Germans who just saw the Ark of the Covenant. I guess I'm going to have to remove the nipple from the bottle of Mountain Dew she keeps on her nightstand (just kidding!).
I had crazy ambitions of getting to the grocery before heading over to choir practice at church but at some point I finally realized that this vacation day was just too full. Besides, if I went to the grocery now, what would I have to do on Saturday morning?
Before we get to the marketing stuff, here is your pig farming moment of zen: Their pen may have been escapable, but their cuteness is not. ...
Last weekend, in a brief moment of remote control ownership, I tuned into basic cable and saw a very disturbing show called "Rich Bride...
Every two years the nationally renowned Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop is held here in Dayton. The event typically sells out in hours,...
Ladies, hold on to your blinged out boots, international pig clipping man of mystery, Claude'**, is back in town just in time to lend hi...