Have you ever had a day where you felt like there was someone, somewhere with a little voodoo doll of you, but instead of sticking pins, they were shoving Kandy Kakes down its little voodoo throat? Well that, my friends, was my day.
It went pretty well until my workout. I had a productive day, the cleaning lady came (which always makes me feel great) and had a stellar plan for getting my girls picked up, off to the gym and then to my middle child's appointment at Children's Hospital to check out her toe-walking situation.
I was about 20 minutes into my workout when I got to Olympic Bar squats. I felt a twinge in my knee that I've had before when I've gone balls to the wall with working out. I didn't give up - I just took all the weight off and finished Tony's workout, but my fire was dimmed a little bit. I did a walk/run to cool down and then went to pick my kids up from day care.
"Mommy, look," said my 4.5 year old who I had about five minutes to get together before we had to get off to her appointment. She had what looked like dirt on her inner thigh. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was poop. She had pooped in her pants and just sat there waiting for me to get her. The woman in the day care didn't even realize! So much for the five minute cushion. I had to scrub to get it off her. It was so bad, not only did I have to throw away her underpants, I had to toss her shorts and her SOCKS, too. Of course I had no extra clothes - she's been potty trained for years - but her brilliant older sister (who's almost 6) suggested I put Amelia in the shorts I made her wear under her skirt. (I like to think she was just being creatively helpful, not trying to get away with wearing a skirt with no shorts underneath.) Well, this was a great idea, except that my older girl is big for her age (about as big as her nearly 10 year old cousin) and Amelia is small for her age (about as big as her 2 year old sister). With the help of a binder clip, we were off.
In the parking lot, who do we run into but daddy? Daddy, who I explained the whole plan to at least three times, but was now looking at me quizzically, saying, "Where are you going? Is the appointment now?" I had about ten minutes less to get to the appointment now than I needed to get there, but I was determined not to lose my patience. After finding out he also had band practice tonight, and not wanting anything to screw up his workout mojo, I offered to take the 2 year old with me so he could workout. (Ding! That's me, getting my wings.)
I don't know if it was a mistake or not. All I know is that TWO AND HALF HOURS LATER, we were still waiting. Thank goodness I had brought my Myoplex with glutamine in the car. But by 8:15, when we finally LEFT the doctor's office, with the thrilling news that my daughter would need serial casting, which would mean WEEKLY visits to this same doctor, I just wanted to cry.
I had promised the girls McDonalds, which I never do. But they were so pitiful. My 2 year old was throwing herself on the floor and putting her head on the ground, then looking up at me, crying, "Go home, Mommy. Let's go home!" My 6 year old, normally patient, was jumping up and down saying " I want to go home! Mommy, that's it. I'm getting the nurse." And she'd head for the door. I did everything I could think of. Played Elmo's guessing game. Read them stories. Sang songs. God bless their little hearts, they were so patient.
Anyway, back to the final moments. I couldn't find McDonald's (thank God) but did find Wawa (which is sort of like 7-11 or store 24, but has tons of healthy stuff). I offered them ice cream sandwiches for snack (I had brought them dinner, which they'd eaten hours before, of course). And for me? I splurged and got a diet coke.
Everyone's in bed now. I've just eaten my meal 4, which was veggie burgers w/ff cheese and green beans. I'll likely have protein pudding in an hour or so and call it a day at 5 meals.
That's the best I can do. (And pretty damn good it is, if I do say so.)
Sorry for the long post, but I really had to get that all in there.