Today has gone from bad to worse. It's just been stupid things, but sometimes I feel like I handle the major things so well that when the little ones start building up I loose it over something stupid. I started out this morning with Rhett needing a bath due to his poopie issues. Now I'm not going to complain to much about the poopies, because all around he is feeling much better. We even snuck into the mall for about a half an hour this afternoon.
Anyhow after I got him bathed I came down and stepped in a rather large puddle. The dog had peed all over the kitchen floor. See she got pregnant by the neighborhood pimp that roams the neighborhood. Somehow he got into our backyard and did his duties with our dog. I wish I knew who this dog belonged to because if I did his owners would be getting these puppies as soon as they are weaned from mommy. Long story short she is a hound that is bigger than Rhett and she lives in the Kitchen during the winter and when she pees she makes big puddles. She doesn't pee very often, but she is the size of a house and due any day now so I can only imagine her need to urinate.
Did I ever tell you about the time I peed on Andy when I was 9 months pregnant with Hunter? Yeah, funny story there......
So then after I mopped up the pee, and changed my pants, (because you know, I am super short and ALL of my pant legs drag on the floor, especially if I don't have shoes on), I went up to do my hair and make up only to find that SOMEONE had thrown my brush and foundation into the toilet.
Okay, problem fixed, just throw a hat on and who gives a crap if the world sees all of my zits. I am beyond trying ot impress anyone.
THEN after getting everyone dressed and ready to head out the door, Rhett poops again. So I hurry and change him, during which he decides to kick his shoes into his poop, and I end up having to clean up those as well as his butt.
So I load Chloee and Rhett into the truck and start to pull out. I realize that neighborhood pimpy dog is behind my truck and will not move. I have to get out, grab him by his collar and pull him up onto our lawn. This dog is a husky, and is as big as our hound if not bigger. I tell him to move his ass or I'm sending him to the dog food factory. Chloee is screaming at me, "No mommy!! Don't do it!!"
So I hop back in the truck and by now I have just enough time to get up to the hospital for Rhett's swallow study. Remember the hospital is over an hour away on a good day with no traffic.
I get up past the point of the mountain, which puts me at the halfway point and traffic just stops. I sit in traffic for 25 min and only move maybe a mile if that. I can see that I am not going anywhere fast. So I call radiology and ask them if I can still come up or if we are going to have to reschedule. Of course since the speech therapists have to be involved we have to reschedule.
I get off on the next exit that I can. Then a light kicks in in my brain. Hey I am really close to the Mayan. Which is a fabulous restaurant where men in loincloths jump off of cliffs into a pool, and (lest you all think I am a sicko that takes my kids to pornographic restaurants), it's fun for the kids too because it's like a jungle theme.
I pull in thinking the day is already shaping up, (I mean, who doesn't want to see guys with six packs walking around in loincloths?) so I get Rhett out put him in his chair, haul Chloee out and walk up to the door. They are now closed for lunch.
So we ended up driving back to Orem and eating at the Spaghetti Factory. It was the only place I could think of that had Macaroni and Cheese besides the Mayan, and Rhett kept asking for "oodles" which means Mac N Cheese.
We walked around the mall for a little bit and threw pennies in the fountain. Rhett loves to do that,
Then we got home and I took one look at my house and started to bawl. See I have been home for over a week now. Then only time I have gone anywhere was yesterday when I ran to Wal-mart for a few things. I didn't realize how trashed my house is. I have so much to do, and so much to get rid of, and I don't have the time or the energy to do it on my own.
Rhett looked at me, and put his chubby little hand on my face and said, "Mommy. Cry. OKAY!!!" So I guess he was telling me it's okay to cry.
I feel alot better now, and maybe just maybe, I can tackle what I need to. Or at least some of it.