March First marked the first day of the month, the first day of Lent and the first day I was going to stop throwing pity parties. March First went well.
March Second? Now that was a day designed to make me work hard to avoid pity parties. Here are the seven “trials” I was put through
- It was a rare morning that I had to get up, and it was also a rare morning in which my toddler slept in.
- Our appointment with the orthotist was pointless because she didn’t have what we needed because the receptionist didn’t ask what kind of FAB boot type we had
- After being assured by multiple sources that Walmart would have the type of socks we’d need, I set foot in the store I swore I wouldn’t and found this:
- I took my fairly narrow stroller into a kid’s clothing store and was glared down by the sales associate when the main aisle was about an inch to narrow and my wheel knocked some clothes off a shelf. Because heaven forbid a stroller go into a store that carries baby clothes
- I spent the whole afternoon feeling like I was in my own personal game of pong, bouncing from one child’s bedside to the other in an attempt to get them to nap.
- We change M’s socks after her one hour of “boot free” time. Only I forgot I needed to wash all of her socks until boot free time already started
- I was craving ice cream and I went into the freezer and found an ice cream sandwich. And then I remembered the last time we bought ice cream sandwiches was… August.
Fortunately, when you’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself, you do a very good job of laughing at yourself.
Linking up with This Ain’t the Lyceum