December 18th, 2009 Comments Off on Complaints

You know those days when everything runs so smoothly and perfectly, and things just get themselves done? Yeah, I’m not having one of those days, either. I’ve been having the kind of days where I manage to squeeze in a hair appointment before next week’s trip (Pie was kind enough to say, “Mommy, show me your gray! Yep! There it is!”) only to leave my earrings behind. To call the Pie’s school frantically because I sent in a peanut butter sandwich but forgot to label it (they segregate the kids with peanut allergies from the kids who bring in peanut butter). I left a message but called back to make sure they got it… only to be told that I had labeled the lunch. I went to three stores looking for wooden swizzle sticks for treats I was making, only to abandon that. I fought my son on homework–our teacher conference last week determined that the boy can do schoolwork (and quite well); he just chooses not to. I fought my daughter on… well, just about everything. The whine is back.

On a side note, Pie and I are watching Eloise at Christmastime. That poor girl is going to be in serious therapy over separation anxiety!

Anyway, today was one of those days when Pie and Jasmine had a playdate that not only gave me no free time, but left me threatening to end the playdate if they couldn’t get along. At Pie’s dance class, I was stuck listening to these, these… well, let’s just call them Mothers and leave it at that. They had a conversation about cleaning uncircumcised p*enises (and yes, they’re husbands are also uncircumcised!) and other lovely crunchy topics. And then another mother came in with a Happy Meal toy she’d found in her car. Her two girls were playing with it and one asked, “What is it?” The mom responded, “Hmm, I don’t know. It’s really a boy’s toy. Why don’t we give this to a boy we know?” Grrrrrrr.

I still have dinner to cook. I still have packages to mail. I still have treats to make and crafts to finish. There’s no point to this post, really. I just felt like bitchin’. Too bad for you.


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