Jen and the terrible, horrible, no good very bad day

If you’ve ever hung out with me for any length of time, you may have heard me say, “If this is the worse thing to happen to me today, I’m in pretty good shape.” It’s a philosophy I embrace whole-heartedly. I may bitch and moan and whine about things, but I really do know how incredibly blessed I am. I know I have intensely complex sons, but I also know that they have sensitive and loving hearts. I have a husband whose stress level is often pinned in the red zone and flirting with “blow the roof,” but I also know that he is a hard and dedicated worker and loves us all deeply. I know I often have a to-do list that turns my stomach, but I also know that if push came to shove I could drop 3/4 of it and the world would keep spinning. I truly know how blessed my life is, and I give thanks to <your deity here> every day.

Today I am eating those words, with a double margarita to wash it all down.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a day like today. I’m usually able to see the absurdity of the situation and laugh, proof that attitude is the most vital component in reacting to a situation. A few weeks ago, when our furnace/door fiasco flew in to say HI HOWYA DOIN’ YOU DIDN’T NEED A SAVINGS ACCOUNT DID YOU?, after the initial shock of home repair gone SNAFU, I was able to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Today I’m not laughing. I’m tired. We painted the boys’ rooms this weekend, and because I’m a little on the crazy side, I decided to repaint the powder room too. You know, because we had extra paint and apparently no sense. On the bright side, the rooms look fantastic and the powder room with its new paint and mirror and totally kick-ass new faucet is now my favorite room in the house. On the not-so-bright side, I’m wiped out and the house has been torn to hell for several days. I don’t like it when my house is torn to hell, makes me titchy.

But that’s just the back story.

Last night A and J were putting their rooms back to rights (kinda) and some sort of demon possessed A and he hit J in the face. While wearing some cheap-ass ridged ring he got from the pediatrician (irony). And scratched hell out of J’s face. We’re lucky J’s eye wasn’t damaged. Oh, and this is right as he was healing from the black eye A gave him last week by throwing headphones at his head. J now has a double scratch from his hairline nearly to his chin.

So this morning A is grounded for the day, J pukes grape juice all over the kitchen (including the hang-to-the-floor curtains), A has a less than ideal swim lesson proving that executive function is a touch and go thing with him, I have library fines out the wazoo, and got into a fender-bender in the Walgreens parking lot. All before 10:30 am. Now, in the grand scheme of things, this.is.nothing. I know how blessed I am. But. Several days of one thing after another on top of the deep guilty feeling of “I’m failing my sons because I can’t keep them safe from each other” and it was a good thing Walgreens didn’t sell rum to go with the coke I had just bought. The MomVan is fine, but won’t be repaired. It’s worth less than it would be to repair the double dent in the back hatch; the other guy’s bumper popped right back out.

Once home I just laid low and other than going out to clean out the MomVan, just hid from the world. It was a miracle that the storm that was blowing up didn’t strike me dead as I wound up the jumper cables. I’m praying that the rest of the evening is entirely uneventful and I can continue with my plan of drinking margaritas until the day is over.

If these are the worst things to happen to me this week, I’m in pretty good shape.