that threaten to do me in. They coincide with the days I threaten to duct tape Organique to something indestructible.
I left the house last night for a few hours, to pick up stuff for Hubby's health and diet (oh, the diet...), and some quiet time at the library.
Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. Hubby's doc had assurred me that they were open until 5:30 now, and if I had the chance to get to town by the, I could pick up the supplements. I called at 4:50 from my van, where I was nursing Baby (in my own driveway) to find that the receptionist was just about ready to close up shop. She graciously said she'd wait until a quarter after, so I hurried to town and was only a couple minutes late, thanks to the weird gray van with B.C. plates who apparently thought the speed limit was 60 kilometers per hour. And then I couldn't find my wallet. Anywhere.
That's ok, I'd give her my CC# that I knew by heart. Oh, except they didn't take that CC. I called Hubby, who gave me the debit card # so she could charge the transaction, but I wasn't sure what I might do about the grocery shopping. No cash, no checks, no ID by which the bank might be persuaded to grant me a withdrawal. My father-in-law saved me, having not yet spent a $20 bill, though payday was long since gone. I did my shopping, saw some friends, went to the library...
Little did I know what was happening at home. *sigh* Daddy just doesn't have the same radar Mama does, apparently. The place was already a mess (and any requests for certain tasks went unheeded, in the "mama's away, time to play!" mentality that reigned), and I didn't know the opportunities for Organique to add to it were so abundant.
An older sister helped herself to my off-limits box of extra school supplies - and left it out. From this Organique emptied a box of 144 pink pencil erasers, and tossed them about the room. Also the little box of binder clips, and the 1" loose-leaf rings. Ai ai ai...
I had purchased - at long last - a bottle of organic shampoo from the Used Food Store in Town for the girls. They only ran out of shampoo a few months ago, and I figured it would be nice to wash their hair again with something. I'd given the job of putting it away to an older sister, who instead left it in an accessible place, apparently. What I thought was conditioner smeared all over the bathroom floor, cabinets, and countertops is apparently the shampoo. I found the mostly-empty bottle sticking (yes, sticking) to the carpet in the school room, about as far from the ransacked bathroom as you can get. I didn't react well to this, as the bottle was small, but spendier than most Used Food Store prices, and I was really hoping to portion it out carefully and make it last. I guess we'll go with baking soda for a while.
A neighbor gave us a box of apples last week, and, well, let's just say we're (hopefully) coming to the end of the "search and rescue" of half-eaten apple cores hidden here and there. I blame Organique for the odd occurrence of fruit flies in November.
Earlier this week she found scissors (left out by... wait for it... an older sister) and cut holes in her clothes. Oh, and there is a teddy bear in the area with 3 decidedly bald-ish spots, but since I've found no teddy-bear fur, it could've happened long ago, by anyone, really.
It's a stage. It is only a stage. I mean, she wears pajamas with holes that were cut by an older sister back when *she* was this age.
Hopefully tomorrow will be different, right? Hopefully tomorrow some progress will be made without sacrificing the ground we took (I hope) today. Maybe I won't wake up with the blue ink of my hastily-scrawled grocery list on the back of my hand transferred to my left temple... "Mama, why do you have writing, up on your face...?"