Yesterday was rough. The burst into tears several times a day kind of rough. The woes of a working mom rough.
The day started off with a bang. As I was attempted to rush through drop of with the kids at the sitter’s, I was lifting Amelia out of her car seat and stepped back to steady myself. And I stepped on Connor’s hand. I felt my shoe sink into his soft little toddler hand. I passed off the baby to the sitter and sent the next twenty minutes trying to calm down a screaming boy. Which is really hard to do when you are the one who caused him the pain.
I called him as soon as I got to work and was pleased to discover that he did eventually stop crying, but was far too injured to eat chicken nuggets for lunch thus he was going to have grilled cheese.
Then I dumped most of Amelia’s milk all over my desk. Lose-lose there both being a mama and the papers on my desk!
To redeem myself, I called our local elementary school to sigh Connor up for preschool next year. I was 6 months ahead of the game. No problem, right? Nope. He is THIRTEENTH on the waiting list. There is a licensed day care in our town that offers a preschool. I should know, I am on the board. But that involves a 12:30 pick up time.
To wrap up my afternoon I sobbed at every picture of Connor and Amelia my husband texted me from Connor’s first ever swimming lesson. Now, I knew that I couldn’t be there. I knew when I signed him up that it was more important that he go to swimming lessons that his father could take him to than that I be there. I couldn’t bring him because the Saturday class was full and I have the job thing during the week.
I rushed home and cuddled those kiddos for as long as I could.