I was the first to wake up yesterday, early enough yesterday to pack Charlotte a lunch and start dinner in the crockpot. Doing all that made me late for work.
Charlotte started yesterday by complaining about the white dress that I made her. I think it's cute. She thinks it's scratchy and hard to run in. I think I don't have time to either shop for or sew another one, so she's stuck with it for dress uniform days for now.
After work yesterday, I picked up Charlotte, went grocery shopping in the rain (with Char), picked up Trystan, unloaded groceries amidst whiny kids, finished making dinner, and tried to prepare Charlotte for Santa's possible arrival via fire department (she had to change out of the accursed white dress and into something that could go outside).
Last night, my husband came home much later than I expected, and would have been later still except I yelled at him. He thought I said I didn't have any reading to do for my critique group meeting. I thought I said I hadn't had time yet to do it. In either case, I needed him home before I left, and we snapped at each other.
Santa never showed. Too rainy I guess.
I was last to bed yesterday, and first up this morning.
I packed Charlotte a lunch, only to find out that she wanted the school lunch today. I was supposed to know this because there were tiny, black checkmarks on the printout of the lunch schedule next to the lunches she wanted. I couldn't find her lunch box either, but it didn't matter in the end.
Trystan was good and picked out his own clothes. But he picked out overalls that don't work well with his chosen sweatshirt, and aren't recommended for daycare because of potty training (he can't work the buckles on his own). So I had to fight him into sweatpants instead. He's scrappy.
Although I was up early, I still left the house fifteen minutes later than I intended, thereby arriving at work fifteen minutes later than I intended. Again.
Trystan made an extremely sad face as I was leaving this morning.
Tonight, after working all day and rushing to pick up Charlotte on time, I have to make dinner, put the kids to bed myself, and bake 4 dozen total cookies for two separate events the next two days. My husband gets an evening--and dinner--out with grown-up friends.
My workout time tomorrow is cancelled due to Char's dance recital. And I'll probably have to work late to make up time from the past couple of late mornings.
The moment I publish this post, my husband will be annoyed at me for venting about him. And we'll end up snapping at each other again.