It was the best of times...it was the worst of times...

The abreviated version:

Friday sucked monkey butt. This morning was awesome.


The extended version:

Friday sucked monkey butt.

It was a terrible, horrible, very bad, no good kind of day. I started the morning out by having my backside handed to me on a platter at work. I screwed up, I admit it. I made a mistake. Or five. And there was hell to pay. It haunted me all freaking day because I tend to be a perfectionist about work and I just don't make those kind of or that many mistakes. It was bad enough that not only was my immediate boss mad but the client was mad too. He mentioned me by name. *sigh* Dammit.

My kids we're staging a revolt. I had many errands to run and many boring tasks to do and they were having no part of it. I ended up hanging with a good friend at McDonalds, completely unscheduled, and literally blowing off half my errands because I just couldn't cope.

As of noon yesterday I *still* hadn't heard from the idiot surgeon regarding B and the possibility that he had a blockage of some sort. At 12:06 Rob texted me that the Dr should be calling me. By 3:30 I still hadn't heard from him. 4:45pm I'm at Target with all 4 kids. B and Corbs are beating the crap out of each other sitting nicely and behaving in the stroller while the girls pick out their first day of school outfits (courtesy of Grandma - woot!) when my cell rings. It's him. The surgeon or, God's Gift to All Mankind were you to have the opportunity to ask him.

He has me on a freaking SPEAKER PHONE and wants to talk to me about what's going on. Only he hasn't talked to either of the pediatricians we see, yet. He has nothing other than phone messages. He initmates that B didn't have a UTI because the peds are incompetent and not to his level of expertise. Then he tells me he needs to see reports and records but doesn't have the time to deal with this. (Yeah, I know.) He tells me if it really WAS a UTI then we will have to do some diagnostic imaging to see if there's a blockage. We already have an appointment on the 17th to see him and we'll just wait until then to do anything. Because it's no big deal.

Yes, folks, he's too busy to deal with this. This being me, my defective child and the idiot pediatricians.

He's an asshat.

In the middle of the phone conversation Corban decides to freakin BITE B's finger so B is screaming like a madman and people are glaring at me for not getting off my phone and dealing with my kid. Are you kidding me? I waited for a week for this jerkoff to call me back, I'm not hanging up now.

Home again, home again, (jiggity jig) where's there are 2 more scathing emails waiting for me about my massive screw ups at work.

I quit. I gave up. Threw in the towel and called Friday a total loss.

Saturday morning was wonderful.

B woke up at 7:30 - he slept in! I pulled him into bed with us and he snoozed off and on for a bit until the other three kids woke up and piled into bed with us. We all snuggled and wrestled and generally had one of those picture perfect movie family moments. Then Sienna grabbed B and said she was going downstairs and that we should stay in bed and rest. So we did. Sienna and Cara proceeded to take care of the boys - feeding them and playing with them - AND they made us breeakfast and coffee and brought it up to us in bed. It was so wonderful!! We decided to head out for a bit to the goose poop infested pond. (In our defense, we didn't know it was infested til we got there.) Where we made a big ole moat and worked on castles and swam and ate chips. It was good. Came home and the girls each had a friend over all afternoon to play.

It's been a good day, even if my internet went down and B is weaning himself.

It was the best of times....it was the worst of times. Forever and ever Amen.