Today was to be D-Day. Dental Day, that is.
Alas, it is not meant to be.
Again.
So I made all these arrangements. A neighbor to pick up The Littlest Mr. from VBS. The Mr. home from work to be here when The Little Miss returns from her visit. A specific time so that Ms. Dental Sales Rep. Assistant To Whom-ever could be present.
Could Ms. Dental return a confirmation call for an appointment set specifically for her time frame 3 weeks in advance?
No. Of Course not. She's like everyone else. Too important to be bothered with other human beings! So self absorbed she could not call until this morning to tell everyone it wasn't convenient to her schedule after all, and could we all jump through hoops and do the whole thing tomorrow?
Got news for ya Buttercup, this chick doesn't jump. I don't do hoops. And I will not flip a whole families schedule because you couldn't be bothered to pick up the phone in advance.
It's just plain self-fish.
I happen to dislike self-fish.
Call it a pet peeve if you must.
So, I thought I'd do my best to remain in a good mood. I mean I've only been waiting for 6 months for these teeth to be replace, what's another week, really? I mean, lets be real here, it's only a stupid dental drama that I've been dealing with (or perhaps not!) for the last 20 or so years.
I can be a good sport about this.
Again.
So I packed the kids off to the WalMart. Hoping for the best. Just needing a few things. Thinking I'll get the kids a little something to play with just for having to humor mommy today.
Oh, and did I mention that The Little Miss went to bed at 9:30, woke at 10:30, 1:30, 2:30, 3:00, 3:30, 4:00, 4:30 & finally rose for the day at 5:AM.
Feeling a little cranky and a little groggy, I pack them in the van. Clearly against any better judgement I may have had at some other point in my life, we enter the store.
There is whining. There is wailing. There is wandering.
All I want is a grill for tailgating, diapers and something to soothe her to sleep at night.
I leave with a grill, propane--which upon pulling into the garage I discover I didn't really need after all, diapers, a crib lullaby light toy thing, batteries for the crib toy, and two Ninga Turtles.
After trying two sets of new batteries in the lovely sleepy toy, the thing still doesn't turn on. Reading the directions carefully, it says, should something be wrong with this item please call our 1 800 number before returning it to the store you bought it from. I dial and wait. I listen to a zillion options. I press buttons. There are no people at this number.
Many phone calls later, I am still not able to reach a live person, nor am I able to turn on the stupid toy.
The Little Miss is also now screaming her lungs out, because we are trying the Dr.'s method of getting her to sleep at night. It's simple, he says. Just don't let her nap during the day. Sure. No problem.
Ever tried to keep a sleepy baby awake?
As I'm holding the screaming Miss on my lap and sending a semi-hostile email to the toy company help desk, she falls asleep. I'm not talking a light doze here. This is the roll out of bed, hit the floor and keep on sleeping kind of nap.
So much for Dr.'s advice.
Nothing against him really. He's a great Dr. He just wasn't particularly helpful this week.
We have so far topped off this day with a really messy kitchen, a dismal dinner outlook and two Little Mr.'s with new turtle toys fighting with each other.
I'm hoping we all make it through to tomorrow.
Some days are just so insane it's funny.
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