how was your wednesday?

I'm not normally someone who tries to stuff too much into one day. That just begs for trouble. I especially try to keep our days low-key when I'm pregnant, because I tire easily and am very scatter-brained. Still, I throw caution to the wind this morning and take Luke out to do several errands. We race home, unload groceries for 10 minutes and pack some lunch, then drive back to the babysitter's so Luke can hang out while I have my 35 week OB appointment. (That appointment was my gift today, as Baby Girl is head-down and perking along perfectly. That in itself makes the rest of this post downright petty.)

I try not to be too annoyed when the OB (one of my doctor's partners) points out that it wasn't very smart to plan to have a baby when my husband isn't living with us. I really try not to be annoyed when she suggests maybe he should go get some surgery to take care things. (Wouldn't you think OBs would like people having babies?). I'm thankful I'll be with my doctor again at the next visit, and make a mental note to start praying that this doctor is NOT the one who delivers Baby Girl, because who knows what I might say when I'm in labor. I mean, Dan and I are in our late 30's - we get it. I prefer my doctor's partners would smile, introduce themselves, say things look great and send me on my way. I don't necessarily need to explain the words SURPRISE BLESSING to them. You'd think in their line of work they'd be a little more sensitive to that.

On the way back to the sitter's I notice that we have very little gas left in the van, but since I have to go to town two more times this afternoon I figure there's always time to stop later.

We head home for a quick nap. Yeah, I'm complaining on a day that I had a nap, for Pete's sake.

Sad.

Although, had I not had that short nap, I'm not sure I would have made it through the rest of the afternoon without causing some kind of public scene.

Emma arrives home and 10 minutes later we are on the road to pick up the boys from school in order to get to Emma's physical therapy appointment on time. The four boys (our three plus our nephew Alex) are going to be easy to entertain, I tell myself...we'll drop Emma off and head to their shangri-la...McDonald's. The on-and-off rainshowers have since stopped and by some miracle none of them needed to use the bathroom, so we are free to eat ice cream and let them play on the outdoor playground. Fantastic! Easy! I am going to win all sorts of brownie points for this!

The rest of the afternoon goes something kind of like this:

The Mcplayground is wet and slippery-- it must have rained longer in town than it did at our house-- which means the boys love it. Soon they're sopping wet, but hey, who cares? We're heading straight home, right?

It's time to leave and everyone is really wet. Sopping shoes, nearly-in-tears-because-it-feels-so-yucky wet.

I assure them the appointment will be over very soon and we'll be on our way home.

We drive to physical therapy. We park a few feet away from the doorway so I can leave Daniel in charge while I run in to collect Emma.

Emma's not done.

Four wet, complaining boys are stuck in the van. When I step inside the office again to pay the bill I look out office windows to see Daniel hanging his socks out the van window, wringing the water from them.

Emma's still not done.

I sit in the van and listen to the discourse, which includes great phrases like YOU SQUEEZED MY WIENER and LUKEY KICKED MY PRIVATES, all delivered in REALLY LOUD VOICES.

Emma's still not done.

Twenty minutes have gone by and there's no sign of her....then the desk clerk realizes she's been curled up in a quiet corner. Reading.

"Why on earth didn't you come out to the van?" I ask.

"It's a really awesome book, Mom."

We make it back out to the van. Where is my cell phone? It's gotta be here...

Daniel announces with a grimace that the book he's supposed to read for homework isn't in his backpack. It's only the third day of school. Sigh.

We're only a few blocks from the library so, with great irritation, I decide to try to find a copy of Caddie Woodlawn. I figure it will be easier than trying to chase down a copy from a classmate- and we still have to drop off my nephew, eat dinner, and take Daniel to a karate class this evening. Like, within the next hour.

Where is that cell phone?

We drive to the library and I tell everyone we must quickly run inside and get the book. Wet boys are complaining now not only about being wet but hungry, too. Emma sits down to search the online catalog while I keep a death grip on Luke's shirt. For some reason library = run away to that kid.

No copies available.

I see a dear friend, who takes one look at me and asks what she can do to help. Since she doesn't have a magic wand I'm guessing not much.

We load back into the van.

WHERE IS THE CELL PHONE?

Do I have enough gas to even get back to the physical therapy office - the last place I saw the stupid phone?

We drive back to the office and I see the phone on the ground when I open my van door...I have missed driving over it by a few inches.

Relieved, we finally head toward home, winding through the country roads due to a detour.

Then I remember that we are running on fumes.

Back into town we go so we can fill up. Maybe the steam coming out of my ears has clued the kids in--no one asks what we're doing or why. It's actually quiet in the van.

Drive to our neighborhood, drop Alex off, home at last. Forget karate - he can take a make-up class. At this point you couldn't pay me enough money to get back in that van, and we wouldn't have enough time to get there, anyway.

Food, drink, routine. All is well.

I haven't even lost the cell phone since we got here.