The No Good Very Bad Day

On Wednesday night I went to bed feeling so blessed. I'd had several uplifting experiences during the 72 hours leading up to that bedtime, so I was full of gratitude and love.

When I woke up Thursday morning, the feelings of the night before were quickly chased away. The day started with a cancellation text.

I had plans with a friend for Thursday morning that had already been rescheduled from the week prior. My kids had been so patient putting off our plans for a week, and when things fell through again, they were devastated. I told them to never fear! We were still going to go through with our plans, but we would find someone else to go with us.

Well, that didn't happen. No one could come with us. Apparently people in my social circle don't just sit around waiting to be invited to do things. Oh, the pain of rejection!

We were going to a splash pad, and I tried to brainwash my kids into enjoying going with "just us." We can have fun as a family, right? We don't need to rely on friends for entertainment (except that it's August, so we totally do!)

I worked really hard to get everyone ready. This, of course, meant I had to feed people. The baby was crying and needed to eat, so I grabbed a box of cereal, some bowls, and the milk and told my older kids to have at it. Then I made a bottle and settled on the couch to feed Eva.

Daisy was dawdling (a norm for her - I will spend the rest of my life waiting for Daisy), so by the time she went to the table, the cereal was all gone. I got her a new box of cereal, which she brought into the living room (who knows why) and spilled all over the floor. Then she refused to clean it up.

I haven't yet figured out a form of discipline that's effective on Daisy, but my current non-effective strategy for when she refuses to clean up a mess is that I give her a choice, "You can clean up the mess, or I will clean up the mess while you sit on your bed." She wouldn't choose either and just laid on the floor screaming at me, "You're the stupidest mommy ever! I hate you!" so I end up having to pick her up and take her to her bed. The problem with this (in addition to interrupting my feeding the baby, resulting in a crying baby) is that I hurt my back a few weeks ago, and for the life of me, it will not heal. So by 7:30 in the morning, my back was out of commission, and I had two screaming children.

When I settled back on the couch with the baby after cleaning up the Cheerios (aggravating my back even more), Zoe came into the room babbling about putting her swimming suit on. She had her suit and swim diaper in hand, and I told her, "Let me finish feeding Eva, and then we'll get your swimming suit on." She started throwing a tantrum because... two-year-old... and then whipped her diaper off so she could start putting her swimming suit on. To my dismay, a chunk-a-poo came flying out of her diaper, landing on the living room floor. Nicky found this hilarious and repeatedly informed me, "There's poo on the floor! There's poo on the floor!" So by 8:00 a.m. I'd already cleaned Cheerios and poo out of my living room carpet.

After the series of living room incidents, I started getting everything ready to go. I packed a diaper bag, got the baby dressed, helped everyone into their swimming suits, and gathered the towels.

(Mind you, this took hours).

We decided the plan would be to squeeze in a trip to the library, then stop at Cafe Rio to grab some lunch to take to the splash pad, then go to the splash pad.

While I was loading everything in the van, Zoe took off up the street. I had to drop everything and run after her (my back!), and when I got to her (three houses up the street), I practically had to tackle her (my back!), and drag her (and the scooter she escaped on) back home kicking and screaming (my back!). Then I had to strap her in her car seat while she did that stiff-as-a-board thing (while screaming) (my back!). As we pulled out of the driveway, it was clear that Zoe wasn't going to calm down any time soon, so I had to cancel the library stop.

Just to make things more exciting, the gas light came on, so I drove straight to the gas station. While pumping gas, I noticed it was a bit windy, and I realized that I didn't bring the stakes for the canopy. Since there isn't an ounce of shade at the splash pad we were going to, the canopy was crucial for Eva's comfort, so I drove back home to find the stakes. I'd last seen the stakes in a backpack that we usually take on outings, but when I got home, they weren't there. At this point, I lost it for a minute and started crying in my garage.

I tried to think of other options for keeping the canopy stable, but I had nothing. I did that frantic thing where you go, "Please, please, please!" while pacing back and forth. I was about to tell the kids we couldn't go, but I decided to check one last place. I found the stakes in a basket on our kitchen counter (which makes perfect sense) and then I did that thing where you go, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" as I ran back to the van.

We took off for the second time and headed straight to Cafe Rio. Surely everything would be alright as soon as we had Cafe Rio in our hands, plus I'd had the good sense to do my order online so it would be ready for me when I got there! I had a $2 off coupon, and at a red light, I checked my wallet to make sure I'd remembered the coupon. I did. But that's when I realized the coupon for was $2 off a salad or burrito, neither of which I ordered. Then I realized I made a mistake on my order and didn't request a flour tortilla for my tostada. I was bummed, but there would still be Cafe Rio, so I knew I'd be okay!

I got to Cafe Rio five minutes before my order time (and Cafe Rio is never early!) so I hung out in the parking for a while to waste time. My kids were sooooo bored! and they started giving me ultimatums involving cupcakes (apparently if I took them to the cupcake shop, they would be good for the entire day. Really? It's as easy as that? All I have to do is buy them cupcakes, and all of their behavior problems - the fighting, the lying, the arguing, the pure defiance - will just magically go away? Sign me up for a cupcake subscription, then!)

When the time arrived, I ran into Cafe Rio and paid for my order. Then Cashier Girl was like, "Um. We don't have black beans or rice." Then she just stared at me as if this was my problem to solve. This is one thing that drives me crazy about food establishments. They are incapable of offering a solutions. So I started to prod because, clearly, this girl needed my help, "How long until you have more? Do you have pinto beans?" It turned out, they weren't actually out of rice (I just had to ask them a million questions to get them to realize this), so I simply swapped my black beans for pinto beans and waited patiently for them to make my (now very late) food.

After I got the food, we drove to the splash pad. I had a moment of panic because no one was there, and I couldn't see any water activity from the parking lot. It would have been perfectly fitting that the splash pad would be dry that day, so I sent Nicky to scope it out. Thankfully, there was water, so I started unloading the van - the canopy, the camp chair, the beach blanket, the towels, the diaper bag, the baby in her car seat, the bag of drinks, the bag of food, and the wagon to pull it all in (my back!)

I dragged it all out onto the grass and started setting up the canopy. To put it lightly, our canopy is a piece of crap. Nicky was trying to help me get all of the legs extended when one of the legs fell off. The little metal popping thing that holds it in place when it expands was too big to lock into the hole that holds it in place, and that really annoyed me because, having used it many times before, there was obviously some form of witchcraft involved that made the hole too small. I was stuck there with a three-legged canopy after all the other stuff that had gone wrong all morning, and I about lost it. I was mad, and I wanted to stamp my foot and yell, kind of how my kids do when they're mad, but I remembered that I'm supposed to be a sensible adult who models rational behavior in front of my kids. I took a deep breath, and I thought, I control my reaction. I can change how I feel.

I tried to walk myself through some sloppy cognitive behavioral therapy - change your thoughts, change your behavior, Britt. You don't have to feel this way.

And then I realized, I wanted to be mad. Even though the little things individually weren't a big deal, the pile-up sucked. If I were to just not be mad, I would be letting fate walk all over me! Gosh darnnit! And I wanted to stay mad so I could blame my two-year-old's tantrums, the great black bean drought of 2015, and that stupid canopy for any mistakes or poor choices I made that day. If I were to just "change my thoughts," I'd be Job, and I'm no Job!

But then I got rational again. I took a deep breath, jimmy-rigged that piece-a-junk canopy leg, and parked myself in a camp chair with a Vanilla Coke and a tostada from Cafe Rio. I decided that was the end of the suckage. It wasn't, but I survived, and as much as I hate to admit it, I know that I really do control how I think and how I act in every situation. I don't get to blame Cafe Rio employees or faulty canopies. I don't even get to blame poo on the floor. It's all up to me, and sometimes I don't like that responsibility.