It started out ok. The alarm at 7 was... Um... Let's call it unpleasant. But that's just morning for ya. Since my kids often wake up 7:45 or 8ish, my plan was to get up, make some coffee (that miracle juice that keeps me from being a homicidal maniac), and go to my neighbors, where I will be milking one of her goats.
So I made my coffee, got my keys, and the next thing I know, all three kids are out of their room and asking me for breakfast. Ok, not the end of the world. I make them breakfast, wake my sleeping husband to tell him I'm going now, and he says, "Going where?"
"Whaddaya mean? I told you I was going to start milking the goat tomorrow."
"No you didn't."
"Yeah, I did."
Well, we still don't know who was right. I'm pretty sure that I remember things more accurately than hubby, but he remembers more things than I do. Quality over quantity if you ask me.
Anyway, off I went. When I got there I thought it would be an in and out sort of thing. This goat had a baby over 9 months ago and we assumed that her milk had weaned out mostly, so it would be a while before we got a full milking from her. I'll save you from all the details, but there was a lot of kicking, spraying and scooting away. And there was a WHOLE lot of milk! The whole ordeal took much longer than I expected. So when I got home more than an hour later, I came home to a very angry and annoyed husband. Not too mention wild children and a broken library tape.
Remember how I mentioned how much I ABHORE confrontation? So instead of just confronting my husband, telling him that I knew he didn't want to be on kid duty so he could go work, and that I should've brought them with me, but I really didn't think my actions deserved such a severe angry outburst from him as I was trying to get wholesome milk for our family, not just goofing off, getting coffee and a pedicure; instead of all that, I got resentful and hurt and angry. But it was my usual passive aggressive anger that doesn't accomplish anything other than slowly poison me from the inside.
And once I feel at odds with my husband, and therefore unsupported in my day, everything always falls apart. I wish it wasn't true. I wish I could say, 'whatever, it's not my problem if he's pissed.' But I am not there yet.
So onward and upward with my day. I had a 10AM appointment to get my car inspected. I was pretty proud of the fact too. After all, not only do responsible adults get their cars inspected, they make appointments to do it.
And I was so on top of things, that the day before I went to the library and got two little playaway players. These are these magical tiny screens, the size of an iPhone, that play videos. Not long ones, because that would make me an apathetic, lazy mom who lets her children zombie out. No, these play lots of short videos, like PBS's Sid the Science Kid. In total, if you play all the short videos, it's about the length if a movie. But whatever.
So we get to the garage. ON TIME. I am doing this adult thing like a master! The really nice guy at the desk said hi to me. He said, "Hi Tovah." He knew my name because I made an appointment. I wasn't one of those irresponsible people that drive into the first garage they see on the last day of the month.
"So I'll just need your proof of insurance and your registration and we'll be all set." Hmmm, okay. I smile like, 'Yeah, of course that's what you need, I knew that.' And I go back to the car and take out every scrap of paper from the glove compartment. After a few minutes, he comes out and helps me rifle through everything. Like I said, really nice guy.
So we find all kinds of useless and expired things, which he suggests I throw out when I get home, and in the end come up with an up to date proof of insurance. Nailed it!
"Ok, we just need that registration form now."
Me, slightly panicked, "Yeah, totally. My husband probably took care of it and I forgot to put it in the car. Let me call him."
But two seconds later we realized that there was no point, as the really nice man pointed out to me that the registration sticker on my license plate expired in April. Of 2012.
Uh, right. What do I do now?
He told me that he would normally just go ahead and do the inspection and I could deal with the registration stuff when I went home, but he just looked at my last inspection sticker and it seems that I am registered in a different county. That means he can't help me out. And did I realize that my last inspection sticker expired in March?
Okay, so what now? Go home and register online, he says. The stickers will come in a couple days and he'll take care of me then. He said it all so apologetically. Like, "I'm really sorry, I really wish I could help. Really, if there was anything I could do." Poor guy. I felt like telling him, "It's okay, I'll be alright. I'm used to changing my sheets almost never and eating cereal for dinner. This is nothing!" But I was worried he might call social services, as by this time my kids were climbing all over his riding mower outside and screaming about how hungry they were. They can be SO dramatic!
I decided that I wasn't going to go through all the trouble of buckling my kids into their seats and packing a huge purse of entertainment and snacks for nothing! So I drove to the photo licensing center. Because, well because my driver's license expired in May. In June, all responsible like, I went the the photo licensing center to renew. They were closed. On a Tuesday! So I used my handy iPhone to find another local place. It was the notary. I went and filled out the paperwork. When I asked if they were ready to take my picture, they told me that that's not how it works. ???
They said that I have to get my paperwork at the notary. And then on Thursday or Friday I had to go to the photo licensing center (I'm getting so tired of typing that whole title, let's call it the PLC), and finish the process there.
I was more than a little pissed. I had actually put on MAKEUP that day for that picture! Do you know how rare that is?! So now, a little over a month later, I was taking my kids, sans makeup, to the PLC. It was Thursday!
I get them all out of the car, walk through heat waves wafting off the parking lot concrete, and get to the door.
Are you ready for it?
I packed the BIG purse so I could have snacks and entertainment. My paperwork was in my LITTLE purse that I use EVERY OTHER DAY!!!
And so, that adventure was over. Lots of well intentioned, responsible thinking got me ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE!
When we get home I realize the massive mess my home has become when I read an email saying an old friend from Colorado might stop by. I ask my kids to help me pick up. I beg them. I yell at them. I threaten them. In the end I do it alone and in the process make my kids feel that they are horrible little people, so then I actually feel like a horrible little person. So then I stop being a compassionate mother. Because when I can't feel compassion for myself, I don't have any to spare on anyone else.
In the end, the friend couldn't make it.
Yup. I heard you all sigh for me. Thanks.
So after dinner we all had ice cream. Ice cream is a way of giving myself compassion AND earning instant Awesome Mama points.
So perhaps what I lack in responsibility, I make up for with creativity and justifications. And really, creative people are WAY more fun to hang out with than those responsible types anyway! (Note the justification reference above.)
1. Kombu, kale, halibut soup for dinner
2. Mediterranean Mint ice cream for desert
3. Having food to be thankful for when nothing else comes to mind