Some Days Are Like That...

I've wanted to have a blog for a while now - three years to be exact. In May of '05, an age ago, I had a terrible day. It was so bad, in fact, that I found it comical and decided to write to my friends about it. If I'd had a blog then, this would have been my first post. So, when I finally started one, I knew this entry had to be included. Thank you for your indulgence.

Part of being a Glamour Pi means helping your sisters find the silver linings in the storm clouds of life. I've been known to have a bubbly persona and to always try to find the bright side of things (or at least be able to point out how much worse it could be), and I think this is a good illustration of that.

Have you read the book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst? Well, it's about this boy who is the youngest of 3 brothers who has a really, really, crappy day.

From the moment he wakes up with gum in his hair, things just do not go Alexander's way. At breakfast, Alexander's brothers Nick and Anthony reach into their cereal boxes and pull out amazing prizes, while all Alexander ends up with is . . . cereal. The situation does not get any better at school, in fact it gets worse. No wonder Alexander wants to move to Australia ! In Australia , everything is upside down, so maybe a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day can become a wonderful, terrific, really good day. After school, Alexander encounters even more bad news when he visits the dentist and goes shopping for sneakers with his mother and brothers. And Alexander's father isn't at all happy with him when the boys visit his office and Alexander gets a little carried away with the new copying machine! This terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day is enough to make anyone want to go to Australia !

Well, anyone that would be me. It's only 9am and I already want to move to Australia . Have you seen that "Got Milk" commercial that touts the claim that milk helps prevent symptoms of PMS? You'd think that after having been together for 16 years, my husband would learn when to keep his mouth shut. Long story short, the ad came on while we were getting ready this morning, and he commented about how funny the ad was. I figured I'd let it pass by, until he added, "But it's totally untrue!" Now, given how much milk I consume, I took great offense to that statement, and a magnificent row ensued. Hence the beginning of my no good, very bad day.

It only got worse. Today is Teacher/Staff Appreciation Day, so I had promised to be at 8 am lineup with the pots and cards the other room parents decided I was more artistically inclined to create. Normally, this wouldn't have been (much of) a problem (given my propensity for tardiness), but the morning domestic altercation had consumed much more time than I had anticipated. In any case, it was a great stretch for my pride to ask my husband to help by taking the kids to the lineup. It kind of puts a damper in the cold-shoulder treatment when you have to request assistance from the person you're freezing, you know? Anyway, on my way to school, my cell phone rang with the obligatory guilt-ridden "Where are you? I'm the only parent that showed up!" call from one of the two other room parents. Now to make me feel more guilty, this is from the recently-widowed mom who has 3 kids (one of whom has special needs) but still manages to walk her kids to school on time every day (a task that I resolve to accomplish every year, but fail to do on anything resembling a regular basis.)

Well, the gift delivery went well, and the teachers really felt appreciated. That is, until D's teacher asked if it was a day of appreciation or a whole week. You see, in the past, it has been a whole week, but there's been a movement to make it a single day. Given the amount of work it takes to coordinate a week of thanks and the amount of teeth-pulling involved to get 5th graders to communicate information to their parents, much less get the parents involved, I, along with the other two room parents, was more than willing to cut back to a single day instead of a whole week's events. Although this is reasonable, my conscience pointed out that it's not the 5th grade teachers' fault that by the time the students are in 5th grade their parents are so burnt out and jaded that the teachers always get the shaft. I mean, every single year the kindergarten teachers get a full brunch hosted by the parents along with a week of gifts from every student. This year, thanks to my brilliant idea, we had the students use paint pens and sign a big ceramic pot that I decorated with a "thank you" from the students, and we planted a mini rose bush in each pot. Now, last night we decided there needed to be something else to go along with it, so we got them Starbuck's and bagels along with thank you cards. Oh well!

In any case, I've been a bit unwell, so running up and down the staircase to the classrooms 4 times carrying 20 lb pots didn't help. Then, on my way to work, I called my mom and had a thoroughly frustrating conversation. Which, of course, made me feel guilty for getting frustrated with her (and snippy). So, as I was getting out of the car carrying the breakfast I didn't have time to eat at home, I kicked the door closed with one foot - promptly slamming it into the other leg, which caused me to jump and spill coffee (very HOT coffee) on my boob!

I'm having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day!!! I think I'll move to Australia! However, in the story, just as Alexander is going to bed (without the kitty who wants to sleep with his brother, without the Mickey Mouse night light that is burnt out, and in the railroad train pajamas that he hates), his mother wisely notes that some days are like that, even in Australia.

Given our "grass is greener" complex, I hope that you can find some enjoyment in my misery; as we say, it could always be worse! I hope you have a wonderful, terrific, really good, fantabulous day! We all work very hard to be the best women we can be, and even though sometimes it's hard to see the beauty and goodness in ourselves, know that your sisters see it and appreciate it.