So, what came first in this day of fail? First, was yet another Minnesota Snowmageddon.
You know, as a little girl growing up in California, my idea of snow was this:
Beautiful, huh? I think so. Sadly, the reality is more like this:
In other words, it's way more snow than is pretty. Unless you're thinking it's a pretty big pain in the ass. So, Dominic can't get into work this morning because nothing's been plowed. But I don't have to go to work until the afternoon, so I won't worry. Silly me.
Then the kids get up. And we find that Quinn has spent half the night throwing up. But you wanna know how that can get better? I mean better than all over just his bed? It's all over his bed, and the crib because he feels better sleeping next to the baby. And by sleeping next to him, oh yes, I totally mean throwing up on him, too. So, who else is excited about my day so far?
Yeah, me neither. Add to this I have a cold and a screaming sinus headache and you see how this just gets better and better. But on to the real fun: It's time to teach the 3 year old Quinn about The Bucket. There are many uses for the hospital basins you get when you have babies, and in our house they usually end up becoming throw up buckets. Sorry, it's not classy, but let's call it what it is: better than my floor. Are you with me? Awesome. So, we're working on that, when we discover that the beauty of sleeping with a pukey kid, is that Brennan is now pukey too. This makes him a very unhappy, sick baby. I would be too.
Have I mentioned that I hate it when my kids are sick? Sure, I'm a nurse, but I'm not a magician or a miracle worker and I hate not being able to fix it when my kids don't feel good. Probably nothing makes me feel more inadequate than sick kids. But I digress, we should be poking more fun at my day! This kind of epic fail day doesn't come along all the time!
What I really need is to go to the store for supplies. You know, broth, jell-o, pedialyte, gatorade, anything that might help my injured troops. Only there's that pesky snowmageddon thing going on. Damn it. Luckily my friend S. came and took me to Target where I could stock up. Of course I had to wade through knee high snow to get to her. But seriously, I was really close to walking all the way to Target in said knee high snow. I was desperate. But fear not, right? Because they're coming to plow, right? Well, maybe not.
They promised me that they'd come by 1:30, so I could go to work. They didn't. I called work. They said come in when you're plowed. Okay. 3:30 they finally come. By 4:30 I've managed to dig the van out. I should mention that our new van is a Ford Econoline 12 passenger, and digging it out is no small feat:
It's big, it's tall, and I can't totally reach all over the front window. So, I finally start to back it out. And I make it halfway down the driveway before I get stuck. See, the people who do my driveway didn't do a very good job. And I can't get out. After another few hours of freezing, shoveling, attempting to back up or go forward, swearing, and crying in frustration (repeatedly, and not always in that order) I finally gave up.
By this time so much of my shift has passed and there is no chance I'm getting this van out today, I just can't do it anymore. I can't feel my toes or the ends of my fingers. I'm pregnant, I'm tired, and I've hurt myself. It's just not worth it. Although, in the many years I've worked for this company, I've NEVER had to call in for weather and it bugs me. It's hard to get staff when the weather's crappy and I'd rather be part of the help than the problem.
At the end of the day, I'm not super mom. I'm not even sort-of-super-mom. I'm buried under The Fail like everyone else. But tomorrow is a new day. Maybe with a little less snow and a little less puking? A little more win? Pretty please? Come on, a girl can dream. Right now, I'm just praying that this stomach thing doesn't pass through all of the kids. Yeah, I know, dream on...