Did you ever have one of *THOSE* days?

Mine was yesterday.

It started off pretty decent. The kids got on the bus, I drank my coffee, started laundry....the usual. And then I noticed the school had called when I was out hanging a load of laundry on the line in gale force winds. Yes, I'm serious about the wind. The message that was left told me Em was in the nurse's office and complaining of a tummy ache. GAH.

I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes, ran the blow dryer over my head a few times and was out the door. When I got to the school, Em started crying and telling me that she did not want to go home and that she was fine, but the nurse said she was pale & then flushed & then pale and yeah, so it didn't look good.

I strapped her into her carseat (while she continued to cry that she wanted to stay at school) and I thought I probably should have brought the vomit bucket. We made the 1.8mi. trek home and she did fine. No sooner than we walked in the door that she was asking for lunch. DUDE...it's only 9:30am. So she ate her snack of pretzel sticks & ice water. By 11:30 she was chomping at the bit for lunch. PB&J comin' up. Every time I went out to hang laundry she was right there with me. Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama as I am holding on for dear life to the line & clothes because the wind is whipping in a very bizarre fashion. I wondered if I would hit my head and end up in the Emerald City a couple of times.

So I am trying to formulate a plan for the day. I have promised whoopie pies & empanadas for the reunion committee. Eh, no problem. I get started on them. I also think about what quick and easy thing I can make for supper since it is a day that Bec needs to be picked up at school and brought to dance. That cuts more than an hour out of my schedule. I get all the cookie parts of whoopie pies made (chocolate & oatmeal) before I have to leave to get Bec.

Around 4:30p I tell all the kids to get into the truck (Chris had planned to be home, but didn't make it) and as I start up the truck I remember that I have very little gas. 44 miles until E. F&*^. I call the hubster and he tells me it is fine. I have plenty to get to Bec's school and to the gas station where we have an account. Ok fine. I make good time until I hit the main road. Traffic is unusually slow. All of a sudden fire trucks and ambulances race past and I see an accident right near where I need to take a right turn to get to Bec's school. I instead fly through the mall parking lot and bypass the accident all together. I finally get the big girl and we're off to dance.

We make it out of Willimantic when I notice the lights are not working near the highway. Sure enough the road is closed. DETOUR. But I don't know where I am. I don't have Garmin or TomTom. I do the next best thing. Follow the guy in front of me and hope he knows where he is going. We get through and are on the main road again. I think, ok, we should be ok on gas still....we don't have THAT much longer to go. Drive on a little way and WHA? Another F*%@ing DETOUR?! This time there are a LINE of cars. Oh and we're on dirt roads and I still don't know where I am. I'm watching my gas gauge go down, down, down and we're still on dirt roads. Finally we get to what is part of the UConn campus, but by now I am a sobbing mess. I finally get my bearings and hubby tells me that he'll meet me at the gas station just a couple miles away. By the time I reached the gas station I had 8 miles to E. EIGHT.

I get some gas, hurry the hell up and get the girl to dance (we're late now). Run her in so I can pin her bra for her and hurry on home. I arrive home after 6pm. I still have to make dinner. I still have to make the filling for the whoopie pies. Heck, I still have to roll out the empanada dough, cut them out, fill them and bake them. So I get started doing 4 things at once (never a good idea) and have Thomas help me with preparing the gourmet meal of hot dogs in beans and homemade mac & cheese. No veggies because I'm such a good mom like that.

I then try to make the filling. I do everything wrong. I work too fast. There is powdered sugar EVERYWHERE. Dude...not even kidding you. I finally just break down and cry saying I just can't do anymore, make a small platter of whoopie pies with filling that is too runny, change my powdered sugar covered sweatshirt, try to make something out of my awful yucky hair and grab my reunion notebook. Oh and two beers. Hubby drives me up the street and I share my woes with the girls. I'm so glad I went. Because honestly, that meeting was the highlight of a rather awful day.

Some days you're the windshield and some days you're the bug. Yesterday, I was totally the bug.