Call Me Alexander

Alexander had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Call me Alexander, or Alexandra if you will.

I finally slept pretty well last night. Until the alarm went off. Then a kid got up. Then I tried to go back to bed and snuggle with him. He didn't sit still, he didn't keep quiet, he didn't let me sleep. I nodded off a bit, then the phone rang. Forget it. I give up. Some days are just meant to be rough.

We went downstairs and had breakfast without major incident. The hooligans made a mess and didn't clean it up. I put them in their room so I could take a shower before we ventured out into the world.

Shower was great. I got dressed in my jeans that make me feel good, my rockin' Danskos that my fabulous husband surprised me with several months ago, and even dried my hair and brushed my teeth.

As I was going to the hooligan containment unit, I heard Thomas yelling "MOM, Jerry drew on the wall!"

GREAT! I just love when my kids draw on the walls with utensils that shouldn't be in their rooms. What fascinating surprise will I find this time?

The picture does not do the shark justice. The shark that Jerry supposedly drew is probably 7 feet long. From the door to the closet is shark. Purple shark. Jerry can't draw a stick figure. At this point, I draw better than Jerry, and that says a lot.

"Thomas, let's try this again. And this time, you will tell me the truth."

"I did it," came the pitiful wail.

Sorry bud, no sympathy here.

Then, I turn around to see this little guy on another wall.

Nice. He is kinda cute, though.

I turn to walk out the door while trying to not throw children out the door or sprout 3 heads and scream like a banshee. I see this master work of art on another wall.

LIVID! That doesn't even begin to describe me this morning.

Then, we head over for the previously blogged about Wal-mart trip.

This day really stinks. Big time.

I go to post Michael's birthday pictures and discover my memory card is missing. The living room is still a mess that the hooligans were supposed to take care of.

Time to teach a voice lesson. Send the hooligans to their room. Michael goes down for his nap like a little angel.

Near the end of the lesson Thomas brings me a bag and says "Jerry ate these."

I keep a bag of goodies in my purse. A handful of skittles, starburst, Hersey's kisses. It comes in handy when I need to bribe, I mean reward, my kids.

No rewards today. They had taken my purse up to their room. They ate almost all the goodies in my purse. They found fruit snacks in my purse that I keep for while we are sitting in the carpool line. Thomas took my chapstick, my good chapstick, and tried to clean the crayon off the walls.

I have no magic erasers because I used them all last week and ran out after cleaning the last disaster on the wall, thank you Michael. I have no magic erasers because Wal-mart really messed up my day and I didn't make it to Target to get the great deals on them that my coupons expire today.

Dinner is in the crock pot and will likely burn or not be cooked all the way. That is just what I predict. There is also probably a bill for $34,239,340.17 in my mailbox waiting for me. And I bet my phone will ring to tell me someone died and my fabulous husband was in a wreck and has lost his job. And I probably have an inoperable brain tumor and will need to have my left big toe amputated. And my ears will fall off and my teeth will rot out in my sleep. It is just one of those days.

I quite. I'm done. I am going to bed and not coming out until you can guarantee me it will be a better day.

Anybody want any kids? They are cute and loving and give great hugs. They have blue eyes and blond hair that will melt your heart. They are adventurous and creative. They are problem solvers and will keep you entertained. Both are potty trained and can scavenge their own food.

Hello, my name is Alexandra. I am having a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

I will no go drink a Dr. Pepper and eat junk food.