I hate today and I’m moving to Australia.
I texted that to the Nerd the other day. It’s a reference to the (fantastic) children’s book, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.”
There is a conspiracy in the world to prevent me from sleeping. I am sure of this. After night, after night, after night, of broken, horrific sleep, I decided to hit the hay early and try to actually wake up rested.
Silly me.
I was awakened by the sound of the most obnoxious pounding I have ever heard in my life. I’m surprised we still have a door. The police were here, notifying us that the church’s alarm had been tripped when the wind blew the door open.
Super. Dead sleep, the loud pounding of police officers outside my door. I picked my heart up off the floor, and waited for the adrenaline to subside.
That took a while. I watched stupid videos of people lip syncing to songs from Frozen on YouTube.
The dog woke me up (we’re dog sitting – which has confirmed that I do, in fact, hate dogs). He barked and whined. The Nerd walked him (at 2 AM). He did nothing. He woke us up again. The Nerd walked him (3 AM). He did nothing.
He barked and whined at the girls and woke them up at 5 AM. He then immediately peed on their floor.
SUCH A GOOD WAY TO START THE DAY.
After not a lot of sleep, I hit the coffee hard and prepared to rush everyone out the door early, to drop Punkin off at a school on the opposite side of town, for a special field trip. It is a universal fact that the more important an early departure time is, the slower your children will move.
After incessant nagging, running around with three sleepy children (THANKS DOG), and not even finishing my coffee, we walk out to the van. We need to leave 5 minutes ago to get to the bus on time for the field trip.
My van doors are frozen shut. I can’t open them.
After begging and pleading, and maybe punching and cursing the winter, I get the driver’s door open. The girls climb through to the back. I cannot reach Smush to buckle her, and because her door won’t open, Punkin has to do it. Smush is super cooperative about getting buckled.
That was a bold-faced lie.
Anyway. Everyone is finally buckled. I throw it in reverse, and as soon as I move, things are beeping. Lights are flashing inside, and I’m immediately assaulted by frigid air as my door flies open, BECAUSE NOW THE HANDLE IS FROZEN IN THE OPEN POSITION AND THE DOOR WON’T SHUT.
I’m moving to Australia.
I give the old, “C’mon!” and smack the handle, breaking the icy grip and finally getting everyone in the van, the doors closed, and the vehicle in motion. Amen. We are now 10 minutes late.
My GPS lies. The school is not 10 minutes away. It is more like 20 minutes away because it’s snowing and EVEN THOUGH WE LIVE IN NEW ENGLAND WHERE IT SNOWS 6 MONTHS OUT OF THE YEAR, people freak out and can’t drive more than 10 mph. I’m not bitter.
I find the school and pull in as the field trip bus is leaving the parking lot. Punkin tears up. I smile and wave like I just escaped the psych ward, and the teacher recognizes me. The bus pulls over, and they let Punkin get on. I LOVE THAT TEACHER.
OK, Punkin made it. This day sucks, I hate dogs, but Punkin made it. I can drop Goo off, and this day will be fine. The van is warming up and I can feel my fingers again. See? It’s not so bad.
“DING. DING. DING. DING. DING.”
Lights flashing on and off. My van is tripping on LSD.
Now that the van warmed up, the doors have thawed enough to trip the sensor and send the car into panic mode BECAUSE OMG YOU’RE DRIVING WITH THE DOORS OPEN.
But because it’s me, the doors haven’t thawed enough to actually open. So I can’t budge them enough to shut them. So now I’m driving around a minivan that is perpetually beeping and flashing interior lights like a freaking rave on wheels.
We made it home. I surrendered to the chaos and opted to finish my coffee and snuggle Smush by the fire.
But I’m still moving to Australia.
