Wednesday Was Sucky

Wednesday was one of those days. We all have them.

Technically, it started in bed on Tuesday night.

I felt Mr. T looking at me from the other side of The Kite Runner.

"Don't stay up too late reading."

But, of course, I did. I was right in the middle of the disturbing climax. At 11:30, I closed the novel and picked up my Sudoku workbook. I needed to unwind for a bit, and when I felt sleepy, I switched off the light.

"Ker."

Pause.

"Ker."

Pause.

"Ker!"

Oh! I did hear someone calling me. Mr. T's dark shadow hovered next to my side of the bed.

"Annie puked. Gonna turn on the light."

I saw it was 1:15 and sighed with my entire body.

The dog was already in the back yard, where I imagined she was eating grass like a goat. I fetched towels, and stood around blinking and yawning with my arms crossed in front of my torso while Mr. T cleaned up the mess.

Thank goodness I don't work on Wednesdays.

I returned to the soft sheets around 2. But I couldn't fall asleep right away because that scary part from the book was back. I couldn't stop thinking about it. After an hour or so, I shoved my brain in a different direction.

I guess I fell asleep because my eyes popped wide to sunlight seeping through the curtains. The baby monitor whined. I looked to the clock to get my bearings, but it was only 6:30. The level of brightness in the room made it feel like noon.

What? It's too early for T Junior to be up. He slept till 8 a couple days ago. Figures.

But the monitor remained quiet so I drifted out and then in when I heard him again and then out and in again until NPR made me get up at 7.

Usually, I get some time (15 minutes) to myself in the morning. I eat toast with butter, drink coffee with a half-teaspoon of Splenda and a splash of whatever flavor of Coffee-Mate had been on sale at Safeway. But not Wednesday.

I poured T Junior's milk into his green sippy cup, I broke a banana into three chunks for him, I toasted half of an English muffin and sliced two strawberries while the bread cooled. Then, I spooned a quarter-cup of cottage cheese into a plastic bowl.

By the time I finished cleaning up, T Junior was done eating. I knew this because he dropped the bowl on the floor splattering sticky curds everywhere. I tore off a paper towel and cleaned up the mess. Then, I ruffled through clean laundry in the dryer until I found a wash cloth, wiped the boy down and set him free in the living room.

Finally, at 8:30, I got my meal.

But the rest of the day followed the strange and annoying pattern that had been set the night before. T Junior was cranky and tired, and so was I, but at least I wasn't crying about it. Every little noggin bump from the coffee table sent him into a short, but intense, tantrum. Or, if his wagon got stuck on a toy. Or, if his little plastic truck fell over. Or, if I looked at him wrong. Seriously. I think he interited his mother's flare for the dramatic.

And, yeah, reading this now, it doesn't look like that bad of a day to me either. But, it was one of those days you just had to have been there. It was one of those that's just a hair off balance. Those days make the simplest inconveniences intolerable. You cringe from wet dog nose on your leg and you throw your hands up in defeat when a fork falls to the floor.

The thing is, when you're on the inside looking out, it feels worse than it is. You know what I mean?

But we get to start over, and today wasn't half bad.

***

How are you coping?