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Heather

The Mamas and Papas sang this song and maybe it’s because I’m tired… but I don’t get it.

Have you ever looked at the lyrics?

I don’t get it.

Maybe it’s because I’m smoking the happy stuff…it was from that era… maybe you have to be stoned to understand it? Who knows…

That really has no relevance to this post other than that, it’s Monday and when I went to figure out a title for this post about Monday, that’s what popped into my head.

Do you think that we determine Mondays are going to suck Sunday night and that’s why our Mondays are not all that we want them to be?

Anywho, this Monday was a real humdinger.

Aside: I like that word, although I’m not sure how it’s spelled. I looked it up and that’s how it’s spelled. I didn’t know it was actually a word, though… you know? Like a real word… but it is. I also learned that humdinger is now how I would describe this day as a humdinger, according to Dictionary.com is defined as “a person, thing, action, or statement of remarkable excellence or effect.” And that’s not how I would describe today.

So this Monday was a real…. well… let’s just say it was a Monday. I don’t know what other nifty word to insert here.

It started out okay. Mom was here last night on her way home from Pennsylvania and we got the kids out the door and to school and we sat here and chatted for a bit before she left.

But after that? It was all down hill.

For whatever reason, I couldn’t get motivated. But I sat down and cleaned off the crap that had accumulated on my desk over the last week, and when I could finally see the top of my desk, I thought for sure that I could do something productive.

I started on my taxes. I got it all entered with the exception of my business stuff, so I just need to get that entered.

And then one of my favorite co-workers called. Now, I don’t know how you are, but when I’m on the phone, I pace. I’ve often wanted to wear a pedometer and see how many miles I walk around the house while talking on the phone each day. I’ve never done it because that would require me to remember to purchase one, and put it on in the morning and even if the former happened, I can guarantee you that the latter wouldn’t.

As I’m talking to her, I walk into the kitchen and see a half dead mouse on the floor. Now. I say that it was half dead because when we made eye contact, it didn’t move.

Now my co-worker knows what a baby I am. Because I screamed. Loud.

She instructed me to put something over it so that Matthew could dispose of it when he got home. So I did.

Then I Twittered about it.

Then the BFF called and she somehow convinced me that I could dispose of it myself. She was attempting to empower me and I love her for that I really do. Because I was all ready to go out there, while she was on the phone and get rid of it.

So I lifted up the trashcan that I had carefully placed over top of it and when I did, it moved and I screamed. REALLY LOUD.

Apparently I scared it as it was all sprawled out and it scampered under the pantry door. And then all I could see was it’s tail.

My heart was pounding, I was screaming, near tears.

She was laughing, and rightfully so. I’m a wuss. I’ll admit it. I just decided that I would let it go and the kids could get in there when they got home and see if it died the rest of the way.

Another aside: When you put mouse poison out, don’t assume that it will make them want water and they will go OUTSIDE to find that water. I don’t know why I thought they would go OUTSIDE to find the water and die.

Anywho. I let it go and I got to work. Between the phone and my little project that I was working on, I kept pretty busy until it was time to go get the kids from fitness club. I decided after I picked them up, I would run to the grocery store as I actually planned my meals for the week and there were a few items that I needed tonight for my stuffed shells.

So we get to the grocery store and SCORE. There was a clearance section in the crunchy section (you know, the organic section) and they had corn pasta for $1.49 and soy chips and crackers for 99 cents a package. This stuff is expensive, but with my allergy, I’ve been trying very hard to eat the right way.

SCORE again when I saw that the Healthy Choice meals were $1.50 each and if you bought 10 of them you would get $5 off your next shopping order.

how about another aside: I don’t know why I do this. I’ll buy something for the coupon off your next order and then I’ll either lose the coupon or forget to use the coupon.

We ventured into the fruits and veggies section and picked up some oranges and corn on the cob and then I told the kids that I was going to run back to the meat section while they were shucking the corn.

SCORE when I found a chuck roast (what was on my plan for tomorrow) on clearance. I love meats in the clearance section.

SCORE again when they had the cottage cheese that I needed for my stuffed shells tonight for 59 cents because it was going to expire. What do I care? I was using it tonight.

As we made our way to the check out, I was thinking about how this day was starting to go my way. Look at all the things that I found on sale and the money that I saved.

And then I go to pay for my sale items and guess what isn’t in my purse?

My wallet.

And of course the nazi, who waits on me every single week, won’t let me write a check because I don’t have my license. So they have to suspend my whole order and I have to run home to get my wallet and go back to the store.

And I’m already running behind schedule because I know that we have softball practice tonight.

On the short drive home, I explain the mouse situation to the kids. They are excited about it. I drop them off and head back to the store, wallet in hand, to pay for my purchases.

When I finally get home, they inform me that the is no mouse in that pantry. GREAT! I assume that it went outside to find water and die. Good for it. It can die in God’s country.

I start dinner and am interrupted by many phone calls from bosses and co-workers and I’m not really paying attention to what I’m doing, but I’m proud of what I’ve done.

I go to open the oven, which i’ve pre-heated in accordance to my recipe, and I notice that I forgot to take the cookie sheets and pans that were in there, out of there. (You store your cookie sheets in the oven, right? I used to store the bread in there until I melted entirely too many bread bags because I never remember to empty it before I pre-heat the oven.)

No big deal really, right?

Wrong.

My spoon rest was in there. And it was plastic. It was pretty too. Was being the operative word there. It’s not so pretty anymore. Unless you consider bubbly plastic, pretty, which I don’t.

I finally get my dinner in the oven and start to clean off the table. I’m still fielding phone calls and refereeing children. I’ve got thousands of things in my hands and I’m scurrying around the kitchen. I got my dinner in way late which means we’re going to have about 15 minutes to eat and I turn to put some things below the microwave and I stop and scream.

Because guess what I found?

The half dead mouse. Except now he’s all the way dead.

With all the crap in my hands, I run screaming out of the kitchen. Matthew was making juice for dinner and Sam was just in the way period, and both burst into fits of laughter over my noise.

“Chill out Mom” Sam says as she gets a bag to get rid of it.

She’s so calm and collected.

But they are still laughing.

And I’m still near tears and am until it is gone.

When it is, I return to the kitchen and finish getting the table ready. I pull dinner out of the oven and it looks and smells devine. I’m so excited that I didn’t ruin it. I place shells on our plates and put my flipper into the pot that is on the back of the stove. I noticed that it sizzled when I did so, but I didn’t think much of it. The sauce was hot. Hot stuff sizzles.

After we devoured our meal and determined that this was definitely a do-again, I’m clearing the plates and I notice that something doesn’t look right in the pot on the back of the stove.

Yes, I left the burner on. And now my flipper is all melted.

But no time to clean it up… we’ve got to get to practice.

And when we do? I get to pitch, because it’s coach pitch.

And I wasn’t doing very well. Part of it was because I’ve not pitched in 15 years. The other part is that the ball was muddy. But one of the girls says, “you’re not bowling…”

of course, I play it off like I was confused and though I was bowling and they all laughed and Coach Heather’s so funny, blah, blah, blah… but you know what? I need to work on my pitching. They are NOT going to say that to me again!!!!

And now I’m home. And the kids are in bed, finally. And here I sit. All curled up on the couch under my favorite blanket.

And I’m ready for Monday to be over… and hope that Tuesday isn’t quite as challenging.

Until next time…

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