So You've Had a Bad Day...

Have you ever had one of those days?

You know what I’m talking about. If you’re anything like me, it’s starts with a scenario similar to this:

You’re totally late…

The kids are being less-than-cooperative...

And your cell phone is nowhere to be found.

You waste precious minutes frantically searching, and then give up, dial your own cell number, and follow the ring.

Is that my butt ringing?

Yup. There’s your cell phone… in your pocket.

I had one of those days yesterday. It wasn’t necessarily a bad day. It was just an exercise in frustration that left me wondering if everyone (myself included) is completely incompetent.

Now granted, I kind of set myself up from the get-go by planning a full morning of errands with four small kids. And since the first stop was Goodwill, and I had a rather sizable donation of stuff-the-needy-will-no-doubt-appreciate, it took me awhile to pack the kids into my crammed van. Eventually, I took out a seat, lined the three girls along the back, and put Ty behind me. The problem was, I soon realized, that I also needed to make room for the two tires I was supposed to have a mechanic install on my car (Stop #2). I wrestled the tires out to the driveway, then went to work shoving stuff around to make room for the tires.

Which were, in the meantime, rolling down the street.

Guess I should have paid more attention to that slight slope we live on. But after chasing my two tires to the end of the road – and finally catching them – I loaded them into the van and headed off to run my errands, a bit sweaty but no worse for wear.

Goodwill was a quick stop. (And I’m confident that my stuff was greatly appreciated.) The mechanic wasn’t too bad either. My kids got a kick out of watching the van get new “shoes,” and I finally had a few free minutes to feed Ty his breakfast. Poor kid. He was very grateful for the attention. But then things got a little hairy when I heard my cell phone beeping out its last gasps for breath.

Oooops. Forgot to charge the phone. That’s okay, I’ll stop by the pharmacy for my prescription, swing by home to pick up the charger, and give it some juice during my doctor’s appointment. Oh, and I need to dig my debit card out of the laundry so I can buy the kids some lunch. And I’ll put the other seat back in, in case we need to pick up Ella’s friend after the doctor.

Unfazed, I packed the kids back up into our newly-shod van and headed for the pharmacy. Where I was informed I no longer have a prescription. Indeed, I transferred it to Target last month, when I found a coupon for a $10 gift card – with prescription transfer. Totally out of my way, mind you, but who passes up ten bucks at Target?

Hmmm. I think I have an old script written out at home. I’ll just pick that up while I’m at home and then swing back over here before my appointment.

I ran home, grabbed my phone charger, flipped through my medical file for the old prescription, dug my debit card out of the laundry hamper, wrestled the extra seat into my car, and headed back to the pharmacy where a very nice technician - who sadly knows me by name - filled the prescription while I waited.

Good. I think I can still make my appointment on time. You know, all things considered, this day is going pretty smooth.

Of course, I didn’t count on my chiropractor running 55 minutes behind. I should have, but I didn’t...

The first twenty minutes weren’t too bad, but then the potty breaks started. Emily kicked it off – because if there is a potty within a half mile of her tush, she’s got to go! And thanks to the power of suggestion, Ella and Evie were soon in need of a break as well. Then it was Emily’s turn again. (I’m telling you, she just really loves potty time.) She didn’t produce anything, but Ty did – as evidenced by the whiff of him I got as he toddled by.

Oh no. Please don’t tell me I left the diaper bag at home.

I did.

I ran out to the car and frantically searched every seat pocket, nook, and cranny for a spare diaper, but no luck. After a few more minutes, the smell was so strong that I had to whisk him off to the bathroom (with Evie in tow for a second round) and clean him up as best I could. At first my plan was to let him go commando and risk an accident. But even I’m not that inconsiderate. Instead I checked the wait time (one more ahead of me) and tossed the kids back in the car. I figured I had 10 minutes to locate a diaper for Commando Boy, and pick up some lunch for my now cranky, hungry girls.

My first stop was another drug store. I confess, there was no way I was going to unload my kids just for a quickie diaper purchase. On the flip side, I once got in trouble with the county sheriff for leaving my children in an unattended car for 2 minutes. (A story for another time.) I was stuck with option 3: the drive thru.

“Hi. I’m sorry, but is there ANY way I could just get a package of Huggies Size 4?”

She looks confused.

"I know this isn't standard operating procedure, but I really need a diaper and I promise you don't want my children in your store right now."

“Um, do you want regular or supreme?”

“Hmmmm. You know? I honestly don’t care.”

God bless that sweet girl in the pharmacy department for picking out the smallest, cheapest package she could find. I paid for my purchase, pulled into a parking space, and diapered a suspiciously damp bottom.

Nothing like closing the barn door after the horse gets out.

My next stop was Burger King. It took some creative maneuvering through the lunch traffic, but I eventually got my sack of chicken nuggets and French fries. Except that somebody forgot stick the fries in the bag.

(I admit at this point that I yelled something to the effect of "ARE YOU EVEN KIDDING ME?!?!)

Too bad I was already back in traffic. More creative maneuvering ensued and I was eventually back in the drive thru line. I had to cut in front of a lady who was having difficulty locating exact change, but at least I got my fries.

A few minutes later, I was back at the doctor’s office with four kids, a sack of fast food, a stroller, bottled water, and a picnic blanket. (Because at this point, I figured we'd just make ourselves at home.) As I finished getting lunch laid out, the doctor called my name.

Evie jumped up and yelled, "I have to go potty!"

"NO, you don't. Now sit down and eat!"

“You know,” the doctor said, as we walked into her office, and she closed the door behind her. “I wouldn’t be you for all the money in the world.”

Really? Because it's only noon...