The day I have had has been so stressful, on so many levels, that if I didn't have faith in God and a nice bottle of white wine in the fridge I would be a drooling idiot sitting in the corner hitting myself repeatedly in the head with a board.
That may be either the most visual or the most disturbing sentence I have ever written.
And most moms, moms who have more than one child, will want to hit me with the board, in the head, when they have finished reading this blog.
But hey, it's MY PITY PARTY, so settle down and keep reading.
The first thing I had to do this morning was help Mother get her bath, and I won't go into details on that, out of respect for her, but it was not really fun, only because I was trying to hurry so much. Trying to hurry my mother is about as intelligent as going outside and yelling at the grass to grow faster.
She is a HASTY. That is a total misnomer. Hastys do.not.hurry.
Then I had to make breakfast.
Waking Michael was not fun - to get him up is hard. Then, to get him interested in getting dressed and eating something before heading to school for what's benignly called Viking Visit Day? Not fun.
When I was in high school we never had to go through this HELL called "Visit Day." We didn't have to dig around and find a recent utility bill to prove where we live. We didn't have to stand in line with 5,000 annoyed parents and jittery teenagers, waiting to be herded into the gym to stand in more lines.
We live in the computer age. WHY on earth can't this nonsense be handled by a computer??!?!?
Michael picked up his class schedule, took one look at it, and promptly refused to show it to me. He likely knew I would be apoplectic to discover that there is no science teacher listed. Last year he had to wait almost 2 months before he got a Biology teacher. He learned next to nothing in Biology. It was a nightmare.
We had to pay class dues of $45 in another line. What do low income parents do? That's a big hunk of money if you aren't working steadily or you are working for minimum wage. It cost $27 to join the PTSA, and that was another line.
Then we had to wait in line 3 more times for him to get his locker.
Then we had to leave and come home in the pouring rain. I was soaked just walking to the car.
When we got home, we had to hustle and get Mom in the car to go to the dermatologist.
On the way, I had to tell Michael about 4 times to turn down the nasty rap music on his iPod, because even with his earbuds in I was subjected to listening to that crap. He didn't believe me when I told him it was too loud. Finally I had to say IT"S TOO LOUD!!
We finally got to the professional building. I had to stop in front of the building so Michael could get out the wheelchair and get Mom in it, and wheel her inside while I went and parked the car, in the rain.
The dermatologist's folks were all very nice, and Mom liked the doctor - hallelujah. He didn't put her on the scale. He laughed when she told him her firm belief that Preparation H cures most skin issues. They are not that far apart in age. It was a win win situation, especially if the cream he prescribed works.
Coming home, we had to sit in traffic on I-285, a/k/a The Highway from Hell. I turned on NPR to catch the BBC News folks because their news is SO much better than American news. Mother said "Why are they talking in British accents?"
"It's the BBC, Mom... British Broadcasting something-or-other."
Then we came back by Checkers and picked up some lunch and came home.Michael had finished two chili dogs before Mother and I even got to the table.
I rested for 30 minutes. Then I had to go back to CVS and get her prescriptions. They only had one of them ready.
Now Michael is saying he doesn't feel well.He has been pretty surly most of the day, so I am not surprised. I think his illness is notreadyforschooltostartback-itis.
Mother is exhausted.
I do not feel like cooking. Or eating. Or anything else.
The only good thing about the horribly rainy day? I didn't have to water my gardens.
Oh OK, the rainwater actually improved the look of my messy hair. I should market that! Polluted rain does WONDERS for your hair!
Tomorrow is another day, as Miss Scarlet would say...
