You know the saying. Or, for me, it goes: the road to insanity is paved with “was going to”. Ugh.
I got up this morning and knew the weather was going to be gorgeous. Which meant I could legitimately kick the kids out of the house so they could enjoy it. In fact it was easier than normal since their friends all showed up just before lunch and off they went. I was planning on tackling some writing for my landcomms because I’ve been skipping a bunch of challenges trying to destress about them (even forgot a couple were do last night). I was feeling pretty good. Figured I’d get them out the door, quickly clean up the kitchen, maybe have some lunch, set Jack outside to play with his new sand/water table and then sit here and write a bit–something short and easy that wouldn’t take too much effort.
Of course nothing is ever that easy for me. First the kids were making a huge mess getting lunch. I finally had to go in there and diffuse the situation before there was food everywhere. I open the fridge to get something for Jack and a freaking soda can falls out of the door (care of my 8yo and 5yo girls who put a bunch in for me) and lands on the big toe of my right foot. OUCH! I’m hopping around the kitchen in tears trying not to cuss because it hurt so freaking bad. I was sure it was broken and after a few seconds I actually couldn’t even feel my toe.
The kids were all upset and helped me to my desk and propped my foot up (which started bleeding around the nail where the can landed), got me something to drink… and then left a honkin’ huge mess for me to clean up. Eventually the pain subsided some and I was able to walk although I can’t really put any weight on that toe. I straighten up the kitchen, clean up the baby and set him to play while the other kids run off. Except my oldest, Meagan.
She decides to go in the back yard and mess with the sand box. She, of course, knocks the leg off of it. That’s partially my fault because I didn’t screw them all on. I wanted to make sure the thing was actually water tight before I pushed 3″ long screws into plastic. Grr. So Jack’s throwing a fit because he wants to go outside and needs a diaper change and there’s sand pouring out of the table from where the leg was and my foot is killing me. I finally get Jack changed and just decide to put him to bed because he was so cranky. I toss Meagan out on her butt (actually she ran for it because I was so mad, lol). Then I set about trying to fix the sandbox. I had to empty 22lbs of sand from it and then put in all the screws (8 3″ ones and 8 2.25″ ones.
All I freaking wanted to do was relax and get some writing done while the kids were off playing (which won’t last all day) and my husband was at work (and he’s due home in, oh, an hour now). I get half way done with the screws and look up to see what looks like a hornet hovering around the umbrella by our deck chairs. I’m allergic to bees (I think–last time I got stung my leg swelled up so much I couldn’t bend my knee) so I avoid things that sting. It was staying away so I just watched it. Then another came. Huh. Then I noticed one come back again. Great. Just what I need. I look over my shoulder and their freaking building a nest under the roof overhang, just feet away from me, next to the patio door. Argh.
It’s really tiny right now (about the size of a golf ball) but I’m sure as hell not trying to get rid of it. Since there were only a handful of insects and they were ignoring me I continued with the screws. Got them all in and now have a huge blister on my one thumb which is making typing hard because that’s the thumb I use to hit the space bar (I’ve never been able to train myself to use the other one). And, of course, when I finally did sit down after all that my internet connection was done. Had to reset my modem/router to get it back.
So here it is, 3 hours after I woke up with all sorts of good intentions regarding my writing and challenges. I’ve gotten nothing done, have a bruised and busted up toe, a huge blister on a finger, still haven’t eaten, have a hornet nest to worry about, 2 of the kids came back already (one complaining of a tummy ache), the baby will probably be up pretty soon and I’m just beyond frustrated. My husband will be home in an hour and then the TV will go on or he’ll play video games which means he’ll be screaming at the game and I won’t be able to concentrate. And I still haven’t cleaned the kitchen and there’s laundry that has to get done. I was going to sit outside and write a bit because it’s really nice (73F and sunny) but not with the hornets even if they are going to leave me alone.
Why does everything have to be so freaking difficult?
Damn good intentions.