Fine, go. Leave me here to stew in my impotent rage. I'm also gonna pee, so you *should* probably go

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I had the worst day yesterday. Even Bean went to bed saying "we had a really bad day today."

It was just a crap-fest from wake-up to bedtime. I think there were 10-15 minutes of good when we first started out, but between O's latest need to scream and throw her full-on hissy fits at the slightest provocation (kid needs to learn to talk already), and Bean just being her usual strong-willed self, I was willing to drown myself in a toilet by about 9 a.m.

My dad came over and changed my tire, and when the flat one came off it had a huge honkin' hunk of metal stuck in it. I picked it up on the bridge near my house, and it was a good couple inches long by an inch wide. This was not a fixable flat. So I'll be out buying tires today.

Miss O spent most of the tire-changing time in a backpack, as she was wandering around screaming and tired, but I couldn't get her nap done because I needed to be sure Miss I didn't wander out and help grandpa with the tire change. She ended up with an hour and a half nap when it was over, and that was a decent hour and a half. Except I wasted it reading Bridge to Terabithia. But there was no screaming for the whole baby-in-carrier stretch, so even tho it was a long 2.5 hours to tote a not-so-tiny one around, it was a quiet 2.5 hours.

We had lunch when she woke up (can you believe Miss O loves liverwurst?) and then I rallied the troops for a quick outing before Bean's physical therapy. We had planned to attend N's first b-day party, but between the flat tire and Miss O being super congested and snotty, we couldn't make the party. So I picked up Bean's new orthotics (how many 3.5-year-olds can say orthotics?), and we stopped at the library for 30 minutes. Yeah, I suck for letting Miss O spread her cooties, but my sanity was already stretched beyond thin and I needed them out of the house. Shoot me. (Please?)

Trying to contain O while Bean does her hour of PT is increasingly difficult. But we managed, then Bean completely and totally ignored everything I said while I talked to her PT. And then when I was getting my purse to leave, she actually ran all the way to the outside door, let herself out and started messing around on the stairs, ramp and near the parking lot.

At that point, I was ready to pitch her beloved Clarice into the garbage as retribution, but managed to stop myself from doing that and instead let her know she was going to be without Clarice for a few days, until I was satisfied her listening and her responsiveness had improved. Of course, I didn't use those exact words; it may have been more along the lines of "If you can ever stop being such a total turd ..." But I believe my point was made and she got the gist of it.

We finally made it home (I more or less stayed on all the highway access roads so I could go slower on my donut), I made the dinner she said she would eat - peas and rice. We had had a conversation about veggies earlier, and she said she'd eat peas. Well, of course she wouldn't eat the damn food, and was all whiny and crying about it. I gave the ultimatum: eat it or go to bed hungry and without any animals or dolls to hold. She wouldn't eat it, but kept saying she'd eat just the rice. I relented to 'eat the rice or go to bed hungry and alone' (alone was her word for not having anything to hold). She balked again.

With a final warning that if I threw her food out there would be nothing else and there would be no animals to snuggle, I threw it out, then nagged incessantly for her to get ready for bed. After a few stories, I was nursing a very tired Miss O down, and getting her close to sleep, when Bean started getting all whiny about her night splints, and then when I finally got her to lay back down and wait, she started a pretend snoring thing that took my last nerve and severed it.

After I yanked off her splints and threw them, and finally got O to sleep, I came out to my office to chill and Miss O woke up 3 more times in the first hour. Then Bean woke up around 9, and was running a fever. I medicated her and told her I'd be in shortly, took an hour to myself and the went to bed with them.

It was just a day and night that had me mumbling to myself all day long about drowning myself in a toilet. Miss O has discovered the miracle or the flush, so I figured I could just stick my head in and allow her to practice me right into Swirly Enlightenment.

But there was no amount of Swirly Enlightenment that was going to fix the day, nor was the small quantity of alcohol I'll allow myself when I'm 'on duty' worth drinking (a glass of wine was no match for an Epic Fail like yesterday), and that my only recourse was sleep and the hope that today would be better.

...

I'm not sure what a 4 a.m. wake-up portends, but let me tell you, it doesn't make me think "this is going to be a great day!" The only thing it makes me think is "thank Bast for Starbucks drive thrus."

And - especially - thank Bast it's a school day and Bean awoke fever-free.
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