Okay, okay. . . I can’t tell a lie.  Today’s blog post title?  Totally misleading.  I just wanted you to all be jealous for a moment, and picture me having a laid back day, feet up on my couch, good book in hand.  My maid came and cleaned the house while I ate bon bons (in the words of my friend, Sarah, who jokes about the same thing).  I drank gourmet coffee that was delivered to me and my kids all played nicely and cleaned up after themselves.

Or, I can tell you how my morning really went.  First, it started with me kicking myself in the pants because I realized that I had promised my friend that I would watch her son for a little while this morning until I realized that I had to take Carter to the hospital for a post-op appointment.  I told her that I would be happy to bring him with me, or reschedule the appointment, but we decided against both.  So I broke a promise.  That’s already a pretty crappy way to start the day.  Next, I let my son talk me into letting him stay home from school because he didn’t feel well.

Fact: He has a cold.

Fact: I think he was probably well enough to go to school.

Fact: Twice in the past, I didn’t know he had strep throat because he doesn’t really act all that sick when in fact he sometimes really is.

So.  I let him stay home.

I preheated the oven so that I could make the (pre-made) cookies that Carter picked out for his snack at preschool that we were signed up to bring today.  Once preheated, I put them in the oven.  I read the directions–bake 8-10 minutes.  DO NOT OVERBAKE.   Fine.  Easy enough.  I went upstairs to change Sawyer’s poopy diaper, and then put him down for a quick nap before the appointment.  Then I hopped in the shower.  AFTER I was soaking wet with my hair already sudsy, I realized that the cookies were still in the oven.  DO NOT OVERBAKE, DO NOT OVERBAKE flashed in my brain like sirens.  I’ve never washed and conditioned my hair so quickly, or dried off so fast in my life.  I flew down the stairs as the timer was going off.  In my robe, and my hair dripping wet.  After they cooled, I realized that not only had I definitely NOT overbaked them, but they were so undercooked that I didn’t even send them to school.  Doh!

Next up.  Appointment at the hospital.  Going to the hospital is no joke.  First of all, the parking garage invention is straight from something out of a horror movie.  I kid you not, I drove around in a circle around the perimeter of the parking garage SIX times before I realized that I wasn’t going up, and that I had to turn INTO one of the inner aisles.  I swear, I’ve been in parking garages before.  I even had 15 minutes of leeway before the appointment time.  I literally could not find a spot.  We had to go all the way up to the TOP level, where you can actually see the sky, before we found a spot.  Then we entered the hospital, had to walk down a few hallways, ride two separate elevators until we were at the right place.  Think I was on time?  Nope.  Ten minutes late. . . remember though, I entered the parking garage 15 minutes early?  Pathetic.

And the chaos didn’t end there.  After the appointment was over, we had 33 minutes to get from the hospital (ALL the way back down the parking garage maze) to pick up our car pool friend and to get to preschool.  AND I hadn’t packed lunch.  By some miracle, we did all of that in record time, with a quick stop to get an egg and cheese bagel which Carter had to scarf down before we got to school.

So much for relaxation.  On a lighter note, now Brayden knows why I can’t come eat with him at lunch very often. . . he saw all the craziness that happens while he’s away!