What day is it?

Friday is supposed to be the easy day. The laid back get ready for the weekend day. I don't know what happened this week, but my Friday started acting like a Monday and I was soo not in the mood.

The day started out relatively well. Eliza slept in a little- probably because she spent most of the night pulling my hair and squirming in bed instead of sleeping. We went on a relaxing morning stroll. I made an appointment for the ant exterminator to finally come take care of those little buggers.

All was going well until...
I locked myself, Eliza and my niece out of the house. We were on our way to the mall and I handed the keys to my niece so that I could carry the baby and the diaper bag down the stairs. She absentmindedly put the keys on the dining room table and then we both walked out of the door. As soon as it shut it I turned around and said, "Do you have the keys?" I already knew the dismal answer. Luckily we were in the air conditioned hallway and not in the scorching heat. She said she had a feeling she was forgetting something- but figured it couldn't be that important. Luckily I was able to laugh, a little, because it is something that I would have done. You can't cry over split milk!

The only people with a spare key to my house are my husband who was over an hour a way at work and my mother-in-law who is visiting her other son in Kansas. GREAT! My niece tried to jimmy the door with a credit card. I let her try just for SH^T$ and giggles. It didn't work. I call my hubs and told him the deal. He called his mom in Kansas who called my sister-in-law. It turns out that the spare keys were at my MIL house 5 minutes away and not with Dorothy and Toto! We were back in the house within a half hour.

Undeterred we decided to venture out to the mall. I was a woman with a mission. I had GymBucks to redeem! I took a bottle because E had to eat before too long. We picked up some stuff at Gymboree and then headed to Old Navy to find some vacay clothes for me. Cut to me trying on a dress in the Old Navy dressing room, discovering that the top of the bottle was not fastened correctly and has now spilled everywhere. Eliza is fussy and hungry. I hand my clothes to the dressing room attendant and mutter something about seeing her tomorrow. Is it time to cry over the split milk yet?


I say aloud to myself, "This is not a good day for me."


My niece responds, "It is never a good day for you."

The topper of the night occurred when E starting gaging and threw up all over the carpet. In the vomit I found a piece of the carpet that looked especially most! Now my daughter loves to pick up fuzzies off of the carpet, but has never eaten one before. I can't even get her to put one of those Gerber Puffs in her mouth, but somehow I am think the stars aligned and she found the coordination to put carpet in her mouth. Makes a momma proud. It is definitely ok to cry over milk that has been vomited all over the carpet.

By that time the hubs was home and mommy ate her pizza, cheese less of course, in peace- and it finally felt like Friday.