Note: The title is a joke. =)
In other news, my little monkey of a child accomplished, or is in the process of accomplishing, the following things today:
1. A successful, 5+ foot jump from her buckled-in position in the cart to a cozy looking sofa at Sam's while I was deciding between various brands of boxer briefs. (You will note at this point how unbelievably glamorous my morning was.)
2. A not-as-successful escape attempt from the Target cart which left her dangling upside-down still trying to grab the sparkly lotion stuff off the shelf while I was deciding between two different kinds of Castile soap. Luckily she did not crash to the floor and crack her head open.
3. A complete renovation of the Old Navy dressing room, including but not limited to, hanger disbursement (dumping out the entire bin), soccer ball disbursement (again) and t-shirt rearrangement while we were taking advantage of some coupons and sales and stuff.
4. Taking every single item of clothing out of her closet and making "a new carpet" with it. This was cleaned up but judging from the sounds coming from upstairs while she should be taking a much-needed (as in MOMMY needs it) nap, I'm pretty certain Attempt 2.0 is well underway.
It was a rainy morning and we had errands. The sun is out now, and we will play in one hour. I'm sure her chaotic behavior is partly due to the chaos in the kitchen...the maintenance guy came out to see what the weird clear peeling stuff was on my tile and come to find out it was bathroom caulking. The space between the tiles on our kitchen counters is approximately four inches, so you can imagine how gross they get. No amount of baking soda/peroxide scrubbing and bleach-soaking will make them look nice. Anyway, I cleared off the counters (enter, chaos) and he said he would fix it up while we were out.
What I expected: to come home to clean, sealed grout that looks like someone is taking care of this place.
What I got: most of the clear stuff had been removed and a note saying "okay now you can clean the grout."
At this point in our story, the aforementioned duct tape will be used on my own mouth when I drop off our rent check. =) I'll just smile sweetly from behind three or four inches of shiny silver tape and let it be.
It probably didn't help that I got that note after our crazy morning, right after receiving and email about Carly having a (my words) snotty attitude in class, and while the lady on the phone was telling my I failed my one-hour glucose test with a level 30 points above what I had with Carly or Bree. Of course I felt like one of those sloppy trash-women, you know the ones, who keep filthy houses, yell at their kids all the time and never actually wear real clothes...like the ones you see in the People of WalMart pictures. Also like the worst mother ON the planet (because who else would simultaneously ruin a previously-happy and well-mannered child, nearly let another one maim herself multiple times in the space of a few hours, and poison the baby all at the same time), and just basically awful. It wasn't a good moment.
I guess it's a good thing I can work out my aggravation on this grout I can now clean, huh. =)