This morning I am sick with sinus crud. I feel like I have wet cotton balls shoved into my cheeks and that the pressure that I feel above my itchy eyes is squeezing those cotton balls until they leak crud down the back of my sore throat. Can you handle how sexy I am right now? Tim felt bad enough for me this morning that he took a sick day to take care of me or rather take care of the kids so I don’t have to.
Of course it happened to be a day where both the boys needed to go to school and I hadn’t prepped anything the night before. Usually there is a good 2 hours in the morning to get everything ready before we need to head out so when I am feeling extra exhausted like I was last night (my own fault. I knew I was getting sick but I couldn’t not watch Biggest Loser and Parenthood. They are why I wake up on Tuesday mornings) I skip all the prep work knowing that I will have to take care of all of it in the morning.
Well this morning Tim paid for my laziness last night and had to pick up all the slack.
We have a slight scheduling issue with bus and school drop off this year. Michael is picked up by the bus at 9:17 am and Patrick needs to be at Preschool in the neighboring town at 9:15am. I have worked it out with Patrick’s teachers so they know to expect us 15 minutes late on Wed and Fri and we do our best to sneak in with out interrupting the delicate balance of chaos that is a 3year old preschool room.
All that said, this morning since both Tim and I were home, Tim was able to get Patrick to school on time while I stayed home to wait for the bus with Michael while Elise snuck in a morning nap. I stumbled down the stairs just as Patrick and Tim were loading up to leave and Tim was looking slightly frazzled (again- my fault for not prepping anything last night). Tim looked at me while mentally checking off “put lunch box into Patrick’s back pack” and said (and then I immediately tweeted):
Full circle back around to “What’s For Diner?” you ask?
I think Tim will now understand why when he asks “What’s for diner?” he more often that not gets an edgy -read: angry- reply of “I don’t know yet!”
The “What’s for Diner” question can send me to a dark place really quick. Sometimes that question can insight the need to run to my bed, curl up under the covers and hide. BECAUSE by the time that questions comes into play I have already made hundreds of other little decisions and diner can be the staw that breaks this camel’s back.