Half Mulligan

I was going to write a post about how I wanted a do-over for today. But then I mentally reviewed the day and realised that most of the afternoon was fabulous. Wiggle Man and I met friends for lunch, and the kids played while grown ups had actual conversation.

The rest of the day, however, was less than fabulous.

Wiggle Man has been feisty today. Feisty is the nice way of phrasing it. The child has spent a lot of time in time-out. Mommy has spent a lot of time praying for patience.

I was getting ready to leave for lunch, and thought to myself, "Pants. Pants are probably a dress code requirement at Chik fil-A. Or shorts. Definitely something on my bottom half."

So I went into the laundry room to get shorts to match my clean tank tops. Upon entering the laundry room, my next thought was, "That's odd. My feet normally don't feel wet when I come in here." This caused me to look down and see the water all over the floor.

Awesome.

So I called The Rev, because well, he's a guy. Aren't guys supposed to handle this stuff? The Rev sometimes overestimates my skill in anything involving repair, and started giving me directions to turn off the hot water heater. Or something. I heard levers and breakers and valves....and then I interrupted him and begged him to just come home.

Wiggle Man ended up in time-out again. I can't remember why. It could have been because he thought dropping a pancake on my computer was "a great idea" (his new catch phrase), or it could have been any number of other things--they all start running together in my brain after a day like today.

We eventually made it to lunch, where bliss ensued for about three hours. (The cow at Chik fil-A is becoming very familiar with my son.)

Eventually, though, I had to come home. The insanity continued for the rest of the day. More time-outs over uneaten dinners, potty training "accidents" and the hot water heater? You guessed it--broken. Did I mention Wiggle Man starts pre-school tomorrow?

Sigh.

With that, I'll leave you. We're off to borrow a bath, and maybe another cup of sanity.

Kisses,



PS--thank heaven for spell-check. I spelled "feisty" as fiesty. FIESTA-Y. Definitely not an apt description for our day.