Today is "one of those days" where you just want to crawl back into bed and start over.
Decide NOT to go to the gym. Turn off alarm, go back to sleep.
Reluctantly get up. Step on scale. Curse self for not going to gym. Feed children and self.
Get in shower.
Rushing around, trying to get self and 4 little ones ready to leave the house by 8:35. House looks like a bomb went off, no time to deal with it now. Rushing, rushing. Drama Queen comes to me and tells me she threw up. Am skeptical. No drama involved, am sure she did not throw-up. If she had, the neighbors would know about it because she would be freaking out. I examine her: no fever, no signs of vomit. She takes me upstairs to show me: a puddle of icky spit on the floor. Not really vomit. I question her: "What were you doing when this happened? Were you running around or jumping around? Does your head hurt? Your tummy? Do you feel like you need to throw-up?" No, no, no to all my questions. Then oldest daughter tells me that Drama Queen launched herself from the top bunk, down to the floor about 6x in a row and then sort of threw-up. A ha! "So you WERE jumping around!" To which she replies: "No I wasn't. I was jumping OFF. That is not the same as jumping around." I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! She asks if she can stay home from school to which I reply ABSOLUTELY NOT.
Go outside to warm up car. Need to clear a pathway through the sea of toys in the garage so that I can get a Triple Baby Jogger loaded into the car. (I borrowed it 2 years ago and no longer use it so am returning it to owner later in day. However, owner forgot about meeting me so I wasted 20 minutes waiting and was then late for preschool pick-up.) Struggle with giant stroller but finally get it loaded.
Tell son that he needs to be dressed NOW (after numerous warnings) because I am loading all the other kids into the car and when I come back inside, I am taking him out to the car whether he is dressed or not. Everyone thinks I am bluffing, oldest daughter even comments on it.
Drag SCREAMING child outside, in his underwear (which he put on backwards). I grabbed his clothes, socks and shoes and headed out the door with him. I made him walk from the house to the car in his underpants only. He is screaming and wailing and boogers are running into his mouth. I put him in his car seat, strap him in and off we go. My daughters are in shock and keep asking me if I am going to make him go to school naked.
Arrive at neighbor's house. Get (still screaming) son dressed (in car). Realize I forgot his coat. Cannot really send him to school without coat. Take him into neighbor's house. Apologize for dropping off Maniac Child and ask if she can find a jacket for him. Leave Maniac (she will drive to preschool) and take her 2 oldest children to school along with my 2 oldest.
Dropped everyone at school and am now driving to my destination, feeling terrible and feeling like I should just go home and clean my messy house. Decide to pull off the road and call husband for some reassurance. He answers (usually I get voicemail) so I start unloading on him about my morning and he is responding with: "Right. Yes. Um-hmmm. I know." Very generic comments. I realize that I am a rambling lunatic (I guess the Maniac Apple fell from the Lunatic Tree) and he doesn't want his coworkers to know that his crazy wife is on the phone. Great, very supportive. Thank you.
Maniac calmed down as soon as I left him with the neighbor. Am in the process of cleaning up messy house. Keep thinking about making my morning coffee but every time I head for the kitchen I get side-tracked by the mess. Am taking the kids to Wendy's for dinner even though its not Thursday. Cannot possibly deal with cooking, still haven't cleaned kitchen from breakfast. Need a nap.