Before I start, just a little disclaimer: this is not the post I planned to publish today. Instead, I needed to vent a little bit about my day so far. I will warn you, I do get a little graphic, so I’m sorry.
I woke up to the sound of my husband’s alarm clock at 6:00 a.m. because mine didn’t go off at 5:00 a.m. When I tried to roll out of bed (rolling my rotund form is easier than trying to sit up these days) I was struck by an awful leg cramp. Holy moly, that hurt. I limped my to the kitchen to start coffee and begin breakfast. Both my husband and daughter took three attempts to rouse them out of bed, so they also were late to get up, late to get ready.
As I was getting ready for work after my shower, brushing my teeth made me feel sick to my stomach. A few minutes later I puked up all of my breakfast and coffee. Yay, oatmeal with raisins- Not going to eat that again for a long while. I am a very violent vomiter (is that even a real word?) and when I looked in the mirror I noticed that I had broken several blood vessels in my face and have red spots all over my cheeks and around my eyes. Soon I get sick again and this time puke so hard that I pee on the floor. Ugh. Being pregnant is great sometimes. I gave in to my emotions and sat and cried for a few minutes.
After quickly taking another shower I get dressed and begin applying makeup. At this point I feel like I have something stuck in my throat and keep coughing. I drink water but it doesn’t help. Abby has to go potty so I sit her on the toilet and then the coughing makes me sick again. I quickly run for the other bathroom, luckily only steps away, as I try to cover my mouth and yell to her to stay on the potty at the same time. I lose the rest of my breakfast and clean up again. After placing Abby back on the potty (she got off to see where I was headed to so quickly), helping her put on a pull up, and then washing her hands, I look in the mirror to fix my hair, only to notice that my mascara has run and I now look like a cross between Alice Cooper and Humpty Dumpty.
By this point we are late and I try to make myself as presentable as possible. Abby has zero interest in being helpful as I try to get her socks and shoes on, saying that she does not want to go to the babysitter, she wants to stay home. When we get in the car she screams and acts like her car seat harness is too tight. She whines about not having her Moana doll for the next fifteen blocks as we drive to daycare. When we arrive she complains that we are at daycare and tells me I am mean. We go inside and she immediately runs to the babysitter for hugs and wants nothing to do with me. That feels great; woohoo, I feel like Mom of the Year.
I get to my office almost twenty minutes late. In less than an hour three different people ask me if I am feeling OK today, so I must look like a hot mess.
What else can go wrong today?