THNGVBD

I bit a rock instead of a black bean last year and cracked my tooth - but I didn't get it looked at for a year because my husband had cancer and we were a little busy - so by the time I got it checked out, I had to get a full root canal, which was fun.  And when I got to the dentist on Tuesday for a routine cleaning, I checked to see if I had enough insurance coverage to get the x-rays and found out that the root canal had maxed out my coverage until January and so, not only were x-rays not covered, but the routine cleaning wasn't either so I had to get up and leave the dentist - which if you think going to the dentist is bad, try going to the dentist and then leaving embarrassed, it is even worse.

I could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

We have always said no to x-rays for our 5 and 4-year-old at the dentist because they're 5 and 4 and we brush/floss regularly and we figured why expose them to extra radiation - until my 5-year-old started complaining of a sore tooth.  I thought it was probably just loose - because he's five - but we did x-rays and found out that he not only had a cavity but actually had 4 cavities, including two that needed root canals.  Additionally, our 10-year-old car, which is like 70 years in car-years, needed a new battery because it wouldn't start one day a few weeks ago, and then when it did start two days later, it shook so badly that it felt like an earthquake to drive.  Turns out two spark plugs and an ignition coil solved that problem - but crowns and a car that is almost ready for medicare rendered our bank account nearly insolvent when all those bills came in on Tuesday...

I think I'll move to Australia [good public transportation and universal health care, and also USD are worth more than Australian dollars...?]

After I picked up our kids from school on Tuesday, I took them to the post office before we went to the park.  They threw temper tantrums.  They whined.  They planted themselves on the sidewalk and refused to move.  I told them it would be fast.  I told them we'd go to the park afterward.  I said we wouldn't get a special treat if they didn't cooperate.  No one listened.  

I could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Because no one would cooperate, and no one was moving (but the little two were in the stroller), I told the 5-year-old to stay put on the sidewalk and went into the post office without him - because he's five and he wasn't moving anywhere (which was the problem) and there was a huge picture window in the front of the post office so I knew I could see him the whole time anyhow.  I asked two people if I could cut in front of them in line, and just had to drop a pre-paid package, so the whole thing took less than 2 minutes, but by the time I got outside, there was an angry glaring woman who wanted to know whose child this was and why his parent was totally negligent.  Her glare needed no words to communicate that I was not only a bad mom but also a total embarrassment to humanity, despite the fact that my child *still had not moved* from the spot he claimed he planned to live in for the next 16 years.

I could tell that it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I could tell it was going to be a bad day because we then continued down the sidewalk to the park, but the bridge we needed was closed for construction, so we had to go back the way we'd come to get to the other bridge.  To pacify my now very angry, tired children, I gave them the only snack that I had with me, which was Cheetos.  They all loved those, which helped a lot.  The baby loved them most of all and smeared them all over her face and legs and stroller, which was great until we passed the same angry glaring woman, who now had artificial orange cheesy goop on my two-year-old to substantiate her claims of my ineptitude at motherhood.  I'm sure your kids only eat kale and quinoa neatly without ever getting mess anywhere and never throws tantrums, Glaring Mom.  

Meanwhile, my child is smearing her Cheetos all the way to Australia.

We finally made it to the park and found one of the boys' friends there which made them super happy and they had lots of fun playing together until the mom, who doesn't really like me, started trying to convince them to play with another friend because they were "more athletic" and more "socially of the same status" and my mama heart burned and ached within me for the terrible things that money and status and moms can do sometimes. Maybe it was just her insecurity, or something else going on that I knew nothing about, but to me, it felt like a slap (in my lower class face).  Luckily her kid was kind and kept happily playing with my sweet, kind son and he was oblivious to the whole thing.  But my shame and rage just kept climbing higher and higher.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

That's what it was too, because, after the playground debacle, we headed to sports and I further cemented our lower class status by changing my kids clothing in the corner of the fields behind the stroller, which is never as sheltered as I anticipate it being - meanwhile the baby ran off and I shouted more than I wanted to and the boys long socks got stuck halfway on and they tried to take off their underwear instead of their shirts and then kept saying while half-naked "why can't we just go to soccer practice NOW?! Looks there's my friend!"  "HI FRIEND'S MOM that we don't know LOOK AT MY NAKED SELF!" (not really the last part, but that's what it felt like...)

Now, I said, I'm going to Australia.

On the way home,  I forgot which stop we get off at and was corrected by my husband which made me cross and grouchy and I didn't feel like explaining the whole long story of my afternoon, so I just snapped at him and made him grouchy too.

"I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day!" I wanted to shout to everybody.  [But I didn't, because I'm a grown-up, and we don't really do that as much as we should.]

We bickered all evening because quarrelsome moments tend to multiply when two people are tired and there are three little narcissists running around underfoot (and the big two above foot).  The kids spilled bathwater, we didn't have food ready for dinner, we ran out of milk, the baby didn't go to sleep quickly, the boys' bath water was too hot, the PJ's I had picked out weren't the right ones and I lost my temper when yet again naked boys were running around the house and the neighbors were shouting happy birthday downstairs and I wasn't in a birthday mood at all.

It took hours to finally communicate well and talk about the parts of the day that were frustrating because sometimes shamed hearts and weary souls take a while to unpack.  We went to bed late, but we finally reached a healthy place - either that or we both were just so exhausted that we stopped self-protecting and let honesty take over, which is almost always a good thing.  

But then my husband said that my toes were too cold to snuggle and I hate wearing socks to bed.

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I've heard that some days are just like that.

Even in Australia.

(Thankfully, Wednesday was much, much better.)

Hope this helps, if and when you find yourself in your own terrible, horrible day.  They do tend to improve with the next.  Otherwise, Australia is always an option.  And if not, one can always write a halfway humorous book/blog post about it.

xo,

KD

* adapted from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst