It started at work after driving through a downpour. My work hours were filled with nothing but budget talk the entire day. I hate budget talk. Especially when it’s focused on budgets in the red. I break out in hives and try to hide in the bathroom as much as possible.
Lucky me, though. I got to leave work early to pick up Savannah’s new glasses. We had to order another pair after she lost her originals….oh yeah….and mine. She has a knack for losing glasses just like jackets.
But I digress.
She looks so freaking cute.
And every time we were in the car I was informed of what street we were on, what businesses were near by, including their slogans, and also what the speed limit was.
“Mom, the speed limit is 35. You’re going 40.”
Maybe I’ll attach blinders to her glasses.
I had signed Sarah up for a gymnastics class that evening. What the hell was I thinking?!
(I should probably change the name of my blog to “What the Hell Was I Thinking?!” I say it A LOT.)
When we arrived I was told to take off my shoes.
“You can’t wear your shoes on the mat.”
Duh! Sarah is 2 and doesn’t form complete sentences. The only class offered for her age is a Mommy and Me class. I should have known that considering I put Savannah in the same class when she was 2. Another pregnant brain fart.
To make a long story short, I decided not to commit to the class. I was exhausted, and Sarah was exhausting. I was constantly calling her, chasing her, lifting her, and I’m not even supposed to pick her up to put her on the couch. I told them we would pass.
“Sorry, doctor’s orders.”
Then I came home and put Sarah to bed and Savannah in the bath, and I crashed on the couch. My day may not sound like much, but to my ragged, ever growing, pregnant ass it was very eventful.