Kelly and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

Friday’s “What the frak…?” moment (WTFM) is brought to you by………..

Kelly and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning*: Some days conspire against us, no matter what we do. I think I’ll move to Canada.

It begins before I wake up, but I don’t know this.

It is Monday.

I stumble downstairs and eat my usual bowl of cereal. Dirty dishes pile around the sink and I clean them. Food splashes onto my favorite shirt. I curse and try to wash it off when the faucet water dribbles to a trickle, then nothing.

The water is simply gone.

I need a shower. I have plans tonight.

I hurry to my gym so I can shower.

They don’t have water either.

I enter a near panic state at not having a shower. I learn a flood – caused by rain nowhere near us so our grass is still parched – has destroyed the water supply for all places east of the highway.

My mind runs through all of the ramifications of this news.

Then I wake up and finally discover it was all a dream.

I stumble downstairs for (what feels like) the second time.

I pour a bowl of cereal and hear, “Oh, Diva!” followed by scrambling and her protests.

CG comes downstairs and grabs paper towels. “She dumped the cat water dish.”

I laugh, and it hits me.

It was a sign of things to come.

This is going to be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning.

Because she never does this.

I either haven’t attended or been on time to my strength class in a month and desperately need the exercise. I dress in my workout clothes to ensure the day flows seamless so I can arrive on time.

The children whine as I try to prepare their lunches to eat at the gym.

I am still on time.

Ten minutes to leave: Lil Diva fills her diaper requiring a change. I am ready for this, as it was the cause to my previous late arrivals.

Five minutes to leave: I quickly use the bathroom and wash my hands.

One minute to leave:I exit the bathroom to gather the kids and find Lil Diva by the back door. With this:

I had already removed the clothing when I realized this qualified for the "don't get mad, take a photo so you can laugh about it later" category. The puppy dog and baby doll were innocent bystanders and not actually in the bag.

Notice how everything was removed from my wallet?

What. The. Frak.

This does not bode well for the teen years.

And I know, this will be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning.

Maybe I should move to Canada.

Five minutes late: I quickly repack my gym bag and wallet. I load it into the car as I request my son put his shoes on. I return and sling the diaper bag (designed like a backpack) over my shoulder. I open the fridge and bend over to grab their travel water cups when I hear a splash.

The diaper bag has collided with my son’s water cup, the large one, which he had filled to the brim and only taken the smallest sip of.

It floods the counter top, soaking the mail, waterfalling down the side into a splash pool on the floor.

I grab a beach towel from the steps and toss it onto the tile, past the point of caring as I try to prevent the mail from distintegrating.

And I know it will be a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning.

Ten minutes late: I hurry the kids into the car, as Lil Diva demands her drink. I hand snacks to them both and drive.

Thank goodness no flat tire occurred.

I arrive and rush the children to the child care center as fast as possible.

There is a line to check in backed up to the door, common five to ten minutes before my class (and the two others that begin at the same time), but almost unheard of after classes have begun.

Fifteen minutes late: It is finally my turn and I sprint to the locker room to drop off my stuff and to the class.

Time of arrival: Seventeen minutes late to class, helped slightly by this clock being the slowest one in the entire gym.

I exercise, barely able to finish lunges across the room with a bar after three sets of squats on a boso and one-legged squats.

And I know, Tuesday I will not be able to walk.

I was right, but at least the day got better after the hot shower following class.

Minus a second workout bag disassemble by Lil Diva.

It was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad morning.

My husband says some mornings are like that. Even in Canada**.

Do you ever have days/morning/evenings/weeks like this?

*This is a play on the children’s book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. If you haven’t read it, it is classic and I would love to write an expanded Stay at Home Mother version. What do you think?

When was your last day like this?

** T minus 13 days to my trip to Canada!!!

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
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17 Responses to Kelly and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

  1. Can’t wait to hear about your trip to Canada. Am jealous. In an insanely jealous way. Cause I know you are hooking up with all the cool kids. 😉 By the way, I had one of these days on Wednesday. Fighting traffic and construction in attempt to get Monkey to fencing practice on time only to learn it was closed due to extreme temperatures. One hour of driving. For nothing. Grrrrrrr.

    What’s with the no water?

    • Ack! Don’t they send out emails or text messages about cancellations? That would drive me crazy – especially fighting the rush hour to do it!

      We have water, just not in my dream.

      During the Iowa floods of ’93, I got experience what not having water was like for several days.

      Bad. And there weren’t any little kids involved.

      In Texas, we’re likely to go to Stage 3 water restrictions by the end of the summer. Not good. Lawns here do not recover from drought well. We need rain badly. So my brain had fun w/ the irony of a flood nowhere near us somehow taking away our water.

      Makes perfect sense in dreamworld.

      And yes, I cannot wait to hang with the cool kids!

  2. This is one of our favorite books! Sounds like a crazy WTF day!
    And yes, I can confirm – this happens also in Canada!

  3. Ai ai ai! I know I do have days like this, but I can’t think of any specific days off the top of my head. I think I’m going to call this a good thing . . .

  4. Ilana says:

    I forgot about that book- I need to get it. Sorry about your terrible morning! If it makes you feel any better, Mazzy rips the stuff out my my wallet all the time. I’m sure she’s got at least $50 hidden under her mattress.

    • The book is great.

      Mazzy is just saving up for her future shoe fund, if she loves them half as much as Lil Diva.

      I usually keep the wallet out of reach or Lil Diva either eats it or drops it into the inter-dimensional portal – never to be seen again.

      I’ve had worse mornings. Just read my Groundhog Day post, written on Groundhog Day, about the worst day to ever have repeat itself…

  5. I never have days like that in Canada. (Not so small white lie).

    Can’t wait til you come!

  6. Jackie says:

    While I cannot comment on Canada, I do know it happens in Jersey all the time. I love that book! At the very least, Good for you for making it to the gym!

    • Oh days like that – the gym is a sanity saver. It is what helped turn the day around. A cathartic workout, a hot shower, and a two hour break while the kids run amok in child care is the best medicine for a day like that. It’s a great incentive to get my butt hauled to the gym. 🙂

      Are you roasting in Jersey right now?

  7. Trish Loye Elliott says:

    Lol! This seems like my typical day but instead of diaper changes now I get tantrums and drama. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get better when they get older, just different. On a good note…. I’m so EXCITED that you’ll be here in less than two weeks! Yay!

    • We’re full of tantrums and drama too – just not that day.

      Did you see the post where my son had over 30 meltdowns in a SINGLE day? Talk about craziness!

      I have no doubt more are in my future, given our parallel lives.

      11.5 Days to Canada! I cannot wait!!!

  8. mypajamadays says:

    One of my favorite books for sure…I can’t believe you had any humor left to take that picture of your emptied out wallet! I probably would have sat on the floor laughing in delirium…or crying. I’m impressed you still managed to get to your exorcise class.

  9. TheKirCorner says:

    first, the Tackler looks like Alexander…..just sayin 😉

    yes, I have tons of days like that….that’s why I take Xanax. 😉

    Hoping the days leading up to Canada are a little less dramatic xo

  10. Nope. I never have days like that. Every minute of my life is like sunshine.

    And then I woke up.

    (with bad breath. crap.)

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