Frazzled

I tell him to be quiet, in a not so loving way.  I hate driving in unfamiliar territory, and his mousy sounding 5 year old voice was just doing something to my thought process.  That darn GPS fails me, and I realize this city is still so foriegn.  The cries of a baby in the back seat let me know she hates this as much as I do.  The boys are both hungry, and I am irritated for even trying to do this.

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Where is that freaking library!?

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But it was all for him.

Trying to go to the library at 3pm was a terrible idea.  It was all blowing up in my face.  We walk in to a "small, old, smelly" place (his words, not mine, but I agree with that 5 year old spitfire).  The kids dvd section consists of some old Barney shows, Marry Poppins, and my little pony...a far cry from the hopeful Spiderman dvd he wanted to come home with. 

He crosses his arms and said loudly, "this sucks!"

So I was that mom in the library.

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We walk out, quickly.  I get the littles buckled in, and hear R screech out in frustration.  I calm him, encourage him to settle down, and then try to buckle his seatbelt again.  I hear that magical click sound, and he slumps down in his car seat, clearly defeated about the fight that darn seatbelt gave him.

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Then my boss calls while I am trying to figure out the way back home.  I pull over, and she tells me I can't wear my nose stud anymore.

I act like my five year old, and say loudly (once I hang up of course), "this sucks!"

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He says in a sheepish voice, "can I talk to you yet?" And I instantly feel terrible about our earlier interaction.

"I liked it way back in Oregon.  The library there was so much more good."

"Better, Ryk, you mean better not good."

"Ugh, mommmm."

"And the parks were close, so close we would ride in the bike trailer to get there, I miss that.  And we could visit  P and B (cousins)."

And at that moment I was glad they were in the back seat. 

I cried.  That ugly cry, where mascara runs down your face, and you have to wipe snot on the sleeve of a sweatshirt.

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In Oregon I had sisters and brothers, who helped out so much with  this child raising business.  In Oregon I could wear my nose ring at work.  In Oregon the library was better, and the parks were closer...and

Sigh.

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But my girl has pink toenails, a first.  And piggytails, not a first.  And skinny jeans, that aren't really so skinny on her petite 14lb12oz frame. 

My Mr. will be home soon.

My boys are laughing upstairs.

And 7pm is just around the corner.