Today was an interesting day. I try to have Wednesdays as calm as humanly possible because Wednesdays are trash day which always end up exhausting this mommy. So, I'm messing with the trash, emptying the diaper genie, spraying Lysol, emptying more trash cans, and then get to the ever-beloved litter box. Oh joy, I know that's what you're thinking. You're completely envying me right about now. So I start emptying it, my guard up because I'm in the kitty bathroom which is down the stairs, an area allegedly off limits to Bailey so I'm listening for her to make sure she's not doing any funny business, spray more Lysol, let it dry, and I go to pour in the litter. Wait...it's hard to pour in something you're OUT OF. So it's 11 o'clock and I'm out of kitty litter. Glorious.
I then realize I have to hurry and get Bailey dressed and head out to Walmart before a certain opinionated feline notices. Yeah, not as easy as it sounds. Getting Bailey ready and out the door is the single most frustrating thing I have ever had to face in my life. This takes anywhere from thirty-five minutes to two hours and I'm seriously not exaggerating. So after chasing her around the house and chasing her some more I finally get her dressed. I then go to finish up the trash because the trash men always come right at noon and I wanted my stinky garbage out. So she's finally ready and I can finally dispose of the nastiness which was now in my dining room and as I'm grabbing the last sack what do I hear? No, not the sound of eight tiny reindeer. The garbage truck exactly twenty minutes early. They're NEVER early. But of course today, just to be extra-courteous, they were early.
The midget and I finally get out to Walmart, get what we need and return home. She fell asleep on the way home so at least I got some time to relax after all of that and the cat has a litter box she can use again. Whew.
So, I've been super excited about having family portraits taken. We don't have any yet, so this is a huge milestone for me. Yesterday, I finally got through to Target's studio (it was always ringing busy) and I had to settle for a 5:20 appointment for next Monday and that was WITH them penciling us in. This worried me slightly. I hate feeling rushed for photos and that we're an inconvenience, because then the pictures won't be any good, as though that's possible with a Bailey in them. I then got this brilliant idea today about setting up a time at the Target closer to Rob's office during his lunch hour. Luckily, he took the baited idea and even luckier, they had an 11:40 opening for tomorrow.
I'm then jumping up and down and all around and then it hits me. I still don't have matching shoes for Bailey's dress, nor a pair of khakis for myself. Fabulous. At least I still had time for a Lawrence run though, right? (We live near there.) First, I took the little miss BACK out to Walmart to look over their selection, just in case. After all, it could potentially save me a longer trip. And viola, I found a pair of burgundy shoes, just as I needed and feared I'd never find and they were ON CLEARANCE.
Bailey of course wasn't very enthused. She was much more interested in the sports section, specifically the balls. Who's idea was it to put the shoes next to sporting equipment? Didn't they figure 16-month-old-girls-obsessed-with-soccer-balls into the equation? She fought me most of the time we spent in there and we had one moment where she was hidden in a shelf behind the car seats in the baby section and didn't want to come out. I even had to use the middle name. Frustrated beyond comprehension, I just went in and retrieved her myself and carried her out of the area with her kicking.
Well, we finally made it to the cashier line and the shoes rang up wrong. That was a good thing though because I grabbed the wrong size during the struggle. So we cancel our order and march back there to get the right pair. Then I remembered the khakis, so I grabbed some of those, which were on clearance, (YAY) and back to the checkout we went. While checking out, a lady passing through tells me my daughter's shoe was at the dressing room desk. I hadn't even noticed. So, after we paid, we went to rescue the lost shoe and headed home.
Once home, I noticed once again the shoes rang up at the wrong price. Fortunately, that's easily fixed. And as for lost shoes? Well, we've had that happen entirely too many times. And hats. And socks. And my mind. We're becoming quite used to it.
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