WTF Monday

It must be Monday, because E has an ear infection, I lost my wallet, and my car went off the road.

Elle has been tugging on her ear all weekend, so I made her a doctor's appointment for 8:20 this morning. Mark took her, and we found out that she has just the start of an ear infection -- antibiotics are optional, though after the day we put in, I couldn't take her crying about it and me worrying if she would spike a fever. So, I gave in and started them.

But, before that, I got a call at work from day care saying that E was really emotional -- that she came in from the playground and fell asleep on the floor, and that she just didn't seem like herself. I decided to go get her an hour early.

On my way, I turned up the road to day care, a steep hill. I got halfway up the road, and my car stopped. It started sliding backwards, so I decided to go with it, put my car in reverse, and back into the driveway of a business at the bottom of the hill. That plan went fine, until I slid, missed the driveway entirely and backed my car on top of a huge rock, in the ditch.

A guy stopped to offer me a tow, but I declined. I had already called AAA, and his suggestion about getting an extra towing tool out of the trunk of my car kind of weirded me out. I've seen enough crime TV shows to know how that would end -- with me in the trunk, and him driving off with my lifeless body. And, I just didn't think it was safe for me to mess around with any mechanical part of the car. Let's leave that to the professionals.

I called day care to give them an update, and so began a two hour wait for the tow truck, I called Mark for some moral support. He told me to go get lunch. I reminded him that I (once again) lost my wallet. He called in a lunch order at the cafe down the street and paid over the phone. I walked over for a half-reuben and salad.

Two hours later, the tow truck arrived, attached the huge hook to my wheel-well, and pulled me off the rock in about three minutes. Then the driver just drove off as if nothing had happened. How uneventful after a two hour wait.

I got to day care, and E was doing fine -- just weepy and pale and wanting me. She and I headed to the pharmacy to pick up her prescription. I tried to keep her entertained while I waited. Mark had to get the doctor's office to call in her prescription to the pharmacy, as he now had the paper slip with him at work. Meanwhile, E scaled the pharmacy walls, emptied a box of happy-face stress-balls onto the floor, threw some behind the pharmacy counter, and chatted with the pharmacist about how she was now "3 years old!"

"Um, she's 2," I interjected, as I searched my (other, not-lost) wallet for Mark's debit card information and tried to punch the numbers into the machine. The card said, "Not Approved." I knew we had money in the account, but I tried 3 more times unsuccessfully while E pulled on my sweater and told me that her ear hurt "really bad." When my "Uh-huh" mumbles weren't sufficient, she managed to climb up on the counter, make herself comfortable, swipe my phone, open it, and start playing one of her games. At that exact moment, I realized I needed my phone to call Mark and confirm the debit card information. I kindly explained to E that I needed the phone for just a minute to call "Daddy." She handed the phone over without incident, God love her. I confirmed that the info was correct, and the lady at the counter said, "You know, we could try running it through as 'Credit.'"

"Oh really?? Is it that simple? Did you just let me struggle with a sick child and angry ATM while I juggled 5 happy-face stress-balls and the box they came in when I all I had to do was hit one button to solve all of my problems? Peachy."

Sure enough, that worked, and I rushed out of the store with E's prescription, extra Ibuprofen, a $3 DVD of Joe Versus the Volcano (to thank Mark for his patience, xoxo!), and some teething rings that E had (unbeknownst to me) added to our cart.

When we went outside, the fight to go to the Toy Store began. She wanted to see Izzy, the toy-store dog, and I wanted to see my child happy for more than 2 minutes while playing on my cell phone, so we spent an hour there playing and visiting with Izzy. It was a nice distraction.

Home we went, and as I pulled in the driveway, I realized E had taken her hat, shoes, and socks off (for the 3rd time). I got her all dressed again, got her out of the car, grabbed all 4 of my bags, chased her across the parking lot, then finally got her inside, to the third floor, jackets and shoes off, to realize that... I had left her medicine in the car. I wrapped a blanket around her and rushed back downstairs, got it, made it back upstairs, put her down at the top of the stairs, coaxed her in the apartment.

Ok, no big deal. Home, done. Fine. She wanted a snack, a show on, and to play play-doh before I had even thought about unpacking our bags.

The pharmacy called to let me know that I left my (previously not-lost) wallet at the store. I decided I'd go get it tomorrow.

When I finally settled in, E played play-doh for awhile, then threw it all on the floor. She emptied a box of crackers on the floor, and her dinner bowl of pasta. I sat and ate my dinner while I watched her turn my living room floor into some kind of post-Woodstock disaster.

Mark came home, and I tackled freelance projects while he ignored my pleas to help get her to bed and sat in the chair for far too long (couldn't blame him). When we finally got her down, she fought me for an hour to go to sleep, and when I felt like I just couldn't take any more, I just covered my ears, ignoring the long string of questions coming from her room, "Hey, Mama! What dat noise?" "Hey, Mama! Dat you?" "Hey, Mama! You gonna watch a show?" "Hey, Mama! You eatin' cereal?"

"Yes, I'm eating a gigantic bowl of sugary Cinnamon Chex cereal, while watching "Coming to America," because this is a tiny slice of the American dream, and I'm going to savor it!!"

She drifted to sleep, two unanswered-questions later, and I started proofreading a Math article for work, checking each math symbol character-by-character until my eyes crossed. I finally finished at 11pm.

As I was getting ready for bed, E woke up and was upset about her ear hurting. It was time for another dose of Ibuprofen, but I had to pace the apartment with her in my arms for almost an hour to get her comfortable enough to relax and stop crying, while the medicine took effect. Finally, I set her down on my bed to ease my back pain. She crawled over to Mark's side, put her head on his pillow, and fell asleep.

For the first time since our November vacation, I didn't care about giving in and letting her sleep in our bed. I put Mark on the couch, climbed in next to her, and had the most restless night's sleep of my life.

At about 3am, I awoke to her knee in my ribcage (I thought that was over after pregnancy), an arm wrapped around my neck, and her face pressed against my cheek. She was fussing a little, so I said, "Why don't you lay on Daddy's pillow? You'll be more comfortable."

"No, Mama! I just want to 'nuggle with you," she said sleepily.

I wrapped my arms around her and fell back to sleep, happier than I've ever been in my entire life.