Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Blame It on the Rain...

It's been one of those days. You know, the kind when you wish you'd just stayed in bed?! We got to preschool early, which isn't a bad thing, but it meant that I had to take Mia inside instead of doing curbside drop-off. And I had to get Logan out of his car seat. And it was dark, dreary, and raining pretty hard... cold, cold March rain.

In between dropping Mia off at preschool and Logan's playgroup at LESA, we had about an hour to kill so off to Walmart we went to pick up a few things (despite not really wanting to drag Logan back out in the rain, but it's too far to go home since we'd have to head right back). I should probably mention at this point that I was driving my van, which I have only had for two months and I am still not accustomed to how much bigger it is than my Escape had been. I pulled into a parking spot at Walmart, and thinking that I was too close to the car next to me, I decided to back up and adjust. Only after hearing a grating "crunch" noise did I realize that this was a huge tactical error. I don't know if I was distracted or what happened exactly, but I had backed into a rather large pick-up truck. So, I pulled back into the original spot and got out to survey the damage. Fortunately for whatever man drives the enormous blue pick-up, his vehicle was fine. My poor Odyssey, however, was not so lucky. I smashed in the hatch, and not just a teensy bit. It's still functional, and I know it's not that bad, but I still feel really angry with myself. There was a gentleman heading into the store right as I was looking the truck over for signs of damage so I asked him to look, too. He agreed that it looked fine, so I decided to move on. (And I know that this could have been far worse. Logan and I could have been injured in a more serious accident, and I am thankful that we weren't!)

I called Brett to let him know what happened. I know he probably thought I was nuts, apologizing over and over and telling him how mad I was at myself for being so "clumsy" and "dumb." I think on some level I wanted him to react with anger, but he didn't. "These things happen," was his response. I couldn't help but wonder why they say women make better fighter pilots than men. I don't know what I was thinking about while I was backing up, but I am sure I wasn't completely focused on the task. I always seem to have a jillion things going on in my brain--a side-effect of being a mom.

I wish that I could say our shopping trip was a success. That at least would make it seem like it was somewhat worthwhile to have gone to Walmart. It turned out that I had lost my list and I could only remember a couple of things that I wanted to get. Even though Logan was belted into the cart, he managed to turn himself around, and then when I unbuckled him to turn him back around he insisted on being carried. He never did let me put him back into the cart. I was feeling pretty defeated when I went to the checkout and I did not want to deal with the self-checkout procedure since I didn't think I could handle it at that moment.

So I trekked a bit to find a register that was actually in use. I handed the cashier my card and then remembered that they have the key pad where you slide your own card. (Duh! They're everywhere now.) She didn't seem to mind, and asked me if I wanted credit or debit. You would have thought this was the most important decision of the day because it took my awhile to answer, largely because I was having trouble forming the word "debit" after having racking my addled brain remember the difference between the two! Then, it took me a few more moments to remember my pin and I thought that I might be changing that answer to "credit!" By the time I left, I was nearly in tears, and the cashier told me she hoped I felt better.

I honestly was afraid to back up again, seeing that the big blue truck was still parked behind me. I did note that it was a really, really big truck and it did seem to be sticking out farther than the surrounding vehicles, so I tried to convince myself that it was an honest mistake that anyone could have made. Still, I wasn't looking forward to driving. However, I did want to get Logan to play group because he loves it.

Logan was clingy during the snack time, and I didn't think I was going to get to go with the other moms to a separate room where we have coffee (I have hot cider since I don't like coffee), cookies, and conversation, which admittedly is my favorite part of play group! (I think I normally eat more than everyone else combined.) After a bit, I did actually get away from Logan, but someone came to get me almost immediately. I went back to the play room and found Logan crying. He calmed down and I moved away from him, only to have him crying immediately, thinking that I had left. This is so atypical. It's never happened before, not even the first time we went to the play group. It's times like that when I really wish he could tell me what's wrong!

The good news is that Mia said she had a nice morning at preschool. I said, "Good! At least someone did!" And things can't get much worse, right?

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