Wednesdays kick my butt! Being in my third trimester, I find myself tired more days than not lately, but Wednesdays really exhaust me. Soph and Asher have preschool, so I take them in the morning which requires me to haul Francesca in with me during the chaotic "drop-off" that surrounds most preschools. Then, she and I load back in the car to cram an entire week's worth of errands into two hours. This usually requires just enough driving for Frankie to fall asleep, but not get her nap out, which leaves me waking her up to drag her with me into the varying location of our first errand.
Today that location happened to be Michael's where I needed to return some things that I had purchased to help Sophia make a poster all about herself for her "special day" at school, which is tomorrow. I returned our unused/unneeded items (after waiting in line for approx 15 minutes) and then quickly browsed for Easter basket goodies all while trying to tame the wild beast that has become my one year old. Upon checkout, I stated that I was military so that I could receive my 10% military discount, available on Wednesdays only, which does little more than compensate for the 9.3% sales tax here in WA. The clerk asked to see my i.d., at which time I realized I had left it in the car. Of course, she couldn't just take my word for it (because so many lie that they're in the military to receive a discount?), so off Frankie and I went into the rain (of course) out to the car. Upon returning, the clerk completed my order without even looking at my i.d., and allowed us to go.
We then had more stops to make at Walgreens (for pictures for the "Sophia" poster, which I had already ordered and paid for once, but mistakenly chose the option to crop the photos into 4x6 which culminated in far too many chopped off heads for one family, so I reordered them and got to pay for them again this time remembering to select the option to keep them true digital photos.), the drycleaners, the gas station (holy $93 for a fill-up!!), and finally the grocery store to get the "healthy snack" and frosted cookies that I am supposed to bring for Soph's special day (are you sensing an annoying theme to my errands?!). This allowed us just enough time to swing home to change Francesca's diaper, get her a bottle, and unload and hide the purchased Easter goodies so that I can prolong the notion of the Easter Bunny for my little ones.
Back in the truck we went to drive to school to run in and get Sophia and Asher (if you are wondering, yes, it was STILL raining!). Zach had emailed (which I received on my phone) during our morning out and stated that he would like to Skype since we are trying to prepare for the "reintegration" and want the kids to "see" him as much as possible so that it isn't "weird" for them when he gets home. So, being the diligent and supportive wife that I strive to be, I scurried home after picking them up from preschool to make lunch as quickly as possible to allow for maximum time "with Dad." I motivated the kids to sit and eat because we were going to get to talk with Daddy on the computer. Well, upon realizing that he didn't have his webcam in his backpack and understanding that it would take too long to go back to his room to get it to return to the area that gets a reliable Internet connection because the kids would have to go down for their naps, he called on the phone instead to talk with tired, cranky, disappointed kids who had no interest in being on the phone. With everyone, including Zach, feeling a bit frustrated and discouraged by the situation, we decided it would be better to try again later, if possible (which it proved not to be) and I put the children down for their rest.
During rest time, I continued to work on Soph's poster and the laundry until Francesca woke up and needed her late afternoon bottle. Before she was finished, Asher and Sophia woke up and I got them a snack and then began the tug-of-war to get Soph into her leotard and tights for ballet class. We were surprisingly running on time until Frankie pooped her pants which set us behind by about three minutes. As I was buckling everyone into their car seats to take Soph to ballet, she announced that she "had to go potty and couldn't hold it." Off she darted into the house to use the bathroom, which set us back several more minutes. Finally, we were off to ballet which is conveniently located, thank goodness, less than a mile from our house. Upon arriving, the door to the studio was shut with a sign on it that said not to enter because class was in session. Having just paid a fortune to enroll Sophia into these classes and knowing all that I had gone through to get her there, even if we were a little over ten minutes late, I opened the door, helped Soph get her ballet shoes on, told her to be a good listener and enjoy class and planted a kiss on top of her head, all the while receiving darting glares from Ms.Vadne who acted as though she was instructing the New York City Ballet rather than a 4/5's beginner pointe class. Since the waiting area, which could maybe seat eight people comfortably, contained no fewer than ten mothers all with at least one child, I opted to take Asher and Francesca across the street to Taco Del Mar for dinner. We ordered our food and loaded back into the car to go back to the dance studio in time to pick Soph up. We returned home to inhale our dinner, pick up the house for the cleaning company's arrival in the morning (Thank You Lord!), and begin the chaos of bath time and the bedtime routine of chore chart completion with appropriate sticker awards, books, songs, and prayers.
The kids are now all sleeping soundly; I am finishing up the laundry, and the house is ready to be cleaned in the morning (which is a more difficult task than it may sound like). I have completed Sophia's "All About Me" poster and have prepared 11 treat bags, complete with sidewalk chalk, Play Dough, bouncy balls, and Easter candy for her school friends, that she will distribute for her "special day." I am in hopes that I will finally get to talk with Zach sometime in the next 12-24 hours, and if I do, I am sure he will ask, "What are you up to?" to which I will likely reply as I usually do, "Oh nothing. What are you doing?"
Somehow, doing "nothing" has never been so. completely. exhausting!