My Day So Far

It's only 12:49 pm. Barely afternoon.

Warning: This may not interest you past the second sentence (except you mom), but it was my day, and well, nobody called today.

I told J last night to wake me up when he gets up or when he leaves. Whichever is closest to 7am.

I had big dreams of getting things done and being ready to walk out the door at 8:30 am with Bo entirely prepared for school, with myself and the other two entirely prepared to go to the Y immediately after dropping him off.

I was even going to make steel cut oatmeal. I never have time to make it.

Instead I remembered that I wanted to try only fruit before noon and then I accidentally sat down at the computer to pay a bill and uh....ended up chatting with a friend.

Then I yelled for the kids to hurry up and get pants on and hurry up and eat their ever-so-healthy breakfast that they prepared for themselves. In the microwave. For 30 seconds.

I rushed out the door with a cereal bar for Danyo, him barely hanging on by the chin, my tennis shoes in hand, two plums in the diaper bag for me, and barking orders at the other two to stop always making me late with their nutritional neediness and short legs.

As I was pulling out onto the street, waiting for cars to clear, a car slowed down so.painfully.slow I thought I was going to die. But I didn't. And I sat on my free hand to avoid waving my special bird at the bird-watchin'-instead-of-driving driver.

I zipped off to school, watched the Cute Little Kindergartener make his way up to the school and kinda wish I could run after him and give him one last kiss and squidge. Because he's adorable.

Off to the Y. Where Danyo finished his cereal bar in the parking lot and I put on my shoes.

We all three toddled into the Y.

I went to boot camp.

Where my boot camp friend said, "I saw you pulling out onto _______ street, I drove really slow to say hi, but I don't think you saw me!"

Errr, right. I barely noticed. Sorry friend.

And then, half an hour into boot camp the red plums kicked in.

I had to urgently discreetly walk the 1/4 mile back into the building.

You don't need to know any more than that on this matter.

I made my way back out just in time for bootcamp to be over.

I stayed on the track and started my "running regimen". Or as J likes to say, my running regime.

It was very nice and I'm excited to continue it.

I walked back up to the building, pretty worn out by now. I was locked out. So I went all the way around the building, only to find a very tall fence. With a lock on it. I stared at it for two minutes. It stayed lock. I saw a couple of my friends from bootcamp getting in their cars to leave.

I pressed my face up against fence and yelled, "How do I get out of this place!?"

Nobody knew. I mean---no one. Even I didn't know.

My friend (slow driving friend) said, "Why don't you hop the fence?"

She may have been joking.

I hopped it. If you could call what I did "hopping". I'm not sure there is a word for, realizing my shoe was too big to fit in one of the holes, taking it off, moving down 7 feet to a part of the fence that had a bar, hefting myself up on it, getting stuck, straddling the fence, ever so mindful that I do want more children, hefting one leg over, dangling precariously---precariously enough that both friends started yelling, "hold on, I'll come help!" Actually, I think one friend came and helped and the other got out her camera.

A lot of work for a four foot high fence. Heh, just kidding. I think it was 8 feet. I have no ability to gauge distances or heights. There's "bigger'n me" and "smaller'n me" for height and there's "I'd walk it" and "get in the car kids" for distance.

I went and got my kids where I was informed Danyo was being a stinker. And I was secretly glad they had to put up with it for nearly 2 hours and not me.

We loaded in the car and drove across town to the hospital. There I took Danyo and Avee in to the human resources office where I thought I was picking up papers to fill out at home.

That was not the case and I juggled Danyo on my left hip and filled out paperwork with my right hand. All the while Avee is trying to push a chair over to a door so she can swing from the large hinge. And all the while I talk to her, trying to make people believe that I always say things like, "Oh sweetie, no no---let's put our feet on the ground, let's not stand on furniture, we don't stand on furniture now do we? I need you to put your listening ears on Precious, yes, yes I do. Does mommy need to take away a privilege?" And honestly, that crap only came to me because I'm writing. In the moment I was like, "How do you say, 'Get the hell down from there before I beat you!' in Public-ese?"

Then a lady rescued me and gave them both suckers. And Danyo charmed them all with his double dimpled cheek and head bobbing in response to any question. And I got slimed. 42 times before we left the office.

I got in the car again and had the chance then to go home. But I am ambitious. And decided to get the drug test (for employment---this one was not for my P.O.) done. So Danyo's covered in sucker, Avee's face is blue, and I am wearing my workout clothes. They say I can do it with kids. I really wanted to say, "But aren't you afraid I'll try to use my daughter's urine?" But I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot, so I didn't. But I did see that on Judging Amy once.

We left there without much incident. If you can call looking like a 3-ring circus every two steps "without incident".

Where I headed to the local health food store to get my water refills.

Inside, the water dispenser wasn't working. I tried and tried and finally got help. I was not leaving that store without my water. A nice employee came and said "It's been acting up, you have to go tap tap BAM, like that."

Oh, I can hit things.

I put Danyo in one of those itty bitty kid carts (so cute) and let Avee push him back and forth. It worked great and it would have gone fast, but the whole tap, tap, BAM business was exhausting and time consuming.

Finally I was done.

But I forgot my wallet.

I went to the car to get it.

It wasn't there.

I went back in and headed for the nice employee to try and bum 8 gallons of water off her. I'm shameless.

As I'm approaching her, a nice man walks up to me and says, pointing at my fresh, beautiful, nice smelling shirt, "BYU-IDAHO, did that used to be Ricks College?"

"Yes! It sure did!"
-When did they change the name?
--Oh, I think about 5 or 6 years ago.
-Yeah, I figured it must have been Ricks because I went to the one in Provo and I thought it was the only one nearby.
--Oh, you went to BYU?
-Yes, one year. I played football there.
--Oh that's cool, when did you play there?
-LaVell Edward's last year.
(me, to myself: I have no idea when that was---just nod)

We continued to talk. He is from LA but lives here now because his wife is from here. He teaches 8th grade. Then somehow I said something about the jr high in our area and then he said he used to live by there and they'd just moved and then I said I live right by __________ and he said he used to live right by there too and then he said where he lived and I said that's right where I live and then we laughed and then we realized he used to live RIGHT ACROSS FROM US.

Then I realized I knew his wife. And his two daughters. From the Y. Then I was like, "You know, you're good looking, I'm good looking, you're an adult, I'm an adult...
Could I borrow four bucks for my water?"

We probably could have kept chatting but I suddenly realized that I had two kids and only one of them was in my arms. At least, I think he was, now I can't remember. I looked down toward the produce section and Avee had filled her teeny tiny grocery cart with apples. She had about 43 apples in her cart. I'm not joking. It was filled to the brim.

I laughed out loud and said, "Uh, she's mine, I better go."

He laughed. But he got to leave.

I went over to Avee and told her that we had to put the apples back. She layed across them and started howling, "NOOOOOOOO MY APPLES!! DESE AW MYYYYYYYYYY APPLES!" I started with the Public-ese and then realized a)it wasn't working and b)there was no one within 10 feet of me. I grabbed her arms and put her face up to mine and said, "If you don't get off these apples and starting gently putting them back on the shelf I will never ever let you come to the store with me again, I will call Daddy and let him have a word with you, and you will go home and take a nap right now!"

She got off the apples. And got on the floor. And the wailing continued. Clutching Danyo with one arm, I practice my boot camp exercise and did squats to get the apples out of the cart and put them back. Danyo is batting at the apples, "Muh, muh, muh! Hiiiiiiiiiii!" Avee is screaming about every apple injustice known to the oppressed 3-year-old across the nation.

I'm sweating. My heart rate monitor (from the running regime) starts beeping. I have exceeded the higher target range.

I start swearing in my mind.

I still haven't even tried to bum the water off the employee yet.

I get the apples put away, pick up the cart and carry it back to the other carts. Leaving Avee on the floor by the apples. I'm saying over and over in my head, "Please don't let her chuck an apple at me, please don't let her chuck an apple at me" because I know it's just miliseconds from her mind if it isn't already in it.

I approach the employee with sweat beads glistening along my forehead and upper lip, Danyo is smacking me with a sticky sucker hand because I didn't give him an apple, and my heart rate monitor is beeping incessantly,

"Hi. I don't have any money. Can I ummm....can I just like, call you from home and give you my card number?"

"Or you could just take the water, you come in here enough."

"Yeah no, I'd feel really sheepish doing that. Can I call?"

"Sure. Or you could just take the water. I mean, we're talking like, $2.80 here, right?"

"Yeah, but I'd really feel better about paying for it. I just need to make sure doing it over the phone is possible."

"Yes, it is but really--"

"Thank you, I'll call you in 12 minutes."

I turned back and saw Avee slithering like a snake on the floor. I threw up a little in my mouth but I left quickly so I didn't have to hear the employee say, "Hey crazy lady, could you just take the water and not call me. And not come back either?"

The good news:
--I exercised
--Avee and Danyo are still intact
--I did not ask the nice ex-football player "How was it being the only black man in Utah Valley" because I really really wanted to.
--my 8 gallons of water are now paid for
--It only took me an hour to write this post