Today has NOT gone according to plan.
Last night I worked late, having sent Ava home with D for the night (which went well I'm happy to report!), and realized quickly upon waking that we had forgotten to switch A's carseat base back into my car. UGH. When I texted him to this extent, he asked me this
Can't you just strap the carseat in and rig the seatbelt around it and come pick it up from me??
Note to self: Think long and hard before leaving Ava with her father unsupervised again.
Um, no? I believe in cutting corners here and there, and don't always follow the rules. I take chances more often than your average girl. I've been known to hightail it over the median and off the highway when stuck in horrible traffic. I DO NOT, however, take chances when it comes to Ava. Ever. PERIOD. Next time, buddy, for your own personal safety while you sleep, don't be an idiot and just bring me back the damn car seat base. Or better yet, switch it back when I ask you the first time, and we won't be in this predicament. Grrr..
What did I do instead, since D
Having successfully managed this seemingly impossible feat, I felt the need to do some celebratory shopping. Technically what I really wanted was to eat my feelings, but unfortunately my feelings only crave dairy, so I settled for a run to Target. I've been in the market for some new make-up, as well as some post-baby clothes, so off we went. All was almost right again with the world until lo and behold, I couldn't get the g-d car seat out of the base. I'm sure right now you're thinking, You're joking, right? No friends, sadly I am not. The rain continued to come down, and I continued to get soaked while attempting to dislodge the damn thing from it's base, all the while fighting back tears. Hey - it was a rough morning. I was feeling emotional, OK?!
Finally I got the damn thing out, just in time to only have about twenty-five minutes left until I had to be checked out and back in the car to head to work. That would've been OK, though. I can work with twenty-five minutes. Or at least I could have, had the lady in the dressing room not banned my cart from the family fitting room, therefore ensuring I'd need that third (and fourth, and fifth) hand again in order to haul A's carrier, her enormous diaper bag, and all 8 things I wanted to quickly try on into the room, while sopping wet and wearing an off-white (and now clearly see-through) shirt. I'm not the best planner.
I hustled to toss garment after garment over my head, trying my best not to catch the reflection of my undressed self in the harsh flourescent-lit dressing room mirror. I finally settled on a few items, threw my clothes back on and headed out to check out and get back to business. I noticed the cashier giving me strange looks, but I figured it was the typical judgmental stares I get from older women who notice my a.)baby face, b.) baby, and c.)lack of a wedding ring, and held my tongue, not wanting to get into a heated debate about who the hell she thought she was while in a hurry to not be late for the 123908129038th time since Ava was born. It was only when I got back into my car and looked in the rear view mirror that I noticed how ridiculous I looked. I must've smudged my make-up and managed to get make my hair even more disheveled than it originally was, since I looked simply comical. No wonder she was staring!
Thankfully, it's almost Friday!