Yesterday, I had an unexpected day off work with no children around. This seldom happens. I realized when I learned at the last minute on Thursday that my office would be closed Friday and both my kids were already scheduled to be in school, that it has been years, years I tell you, since I had a day off work when I didn't also have to nurse a child back to health, or when I had a vacation day that didn't also coincide with a school vacation day. I'm pretty confident in saying that I've never even taken a sick day when I didn't also have a kid at home who was also sick, or worse, who wasn't sick and had the pent up energy of a rubber band being pulled way beyond it's stretching point and me without the strength or ability to chase after them. Such is the plight of motherhood; wah, wah, blah, blah, feel sorry for me. Oh wait, most every woman reading this KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN.

I was so surprised at my good fortune, in fact, that I decided not to waste it. I declared it My Day and had a whole elaborate schedule planned. Once I put The Large One on the school bus and took The Small One to preschool, I would:

1. get a massage - and have the apple-sized knot in my neck that makes the fingers on my left hand tingle off and on removed once and for all.

then I would immediately walk next door and

2. get a pedicure - asking them to remove the two inches of callouses on the bottom of my heels that keep cracking and bleeding through my socks

then I would drive down to the church building and

3. practice the organ - because I've recently been asked to play the organ in church for Sunday services and here's the thing about the organ: it's a whole different instrument than the piano. You use your feet and stuff. I know! Remembering how to do that for the first time in years requires a bit more than stomping imaginary foot pedals under my piano on my living room floor. Plus I also need time with the concept to desensitize myself from making inappropriate jokes every time I say, "I have to play the organ."

once I did that, I would walk over to the mall next to the church and

4. get my hair cut - because at this point I'm pretty sure a mop head perched precariously on the top of my head would look more polished than what I normally do every day with my hair and I have to give a presentation to our Board of Directors next week and maybe they should think that the person who is directing the cosmetic redesign of their website should be aware that she looks like a hobo and be willing to do something about it.

somewhere in there, maybe if I had time, I'd

5. stop by that new Soup restaurant I've been itching to try but can't ever go in - because when we are down in that area it's always Sunday after church or I have my kids with me and who wants to clean $8 soup off two kids and the floor? Not me, that's who.
and/or: take some photos with the new camera that I haven't had time to learn how to use yet.

That's all I really wanted. A few things that I've needed to do for awhile, but haven't since they always get bumped to the bottom of the priority list. One or two things I kind of wanted to do. Everything would have been completed by 3:00 pm when I had to be back in the house to get The Dormouse off the bus.

Except.

I got The Caterpillar to preschool late after an Epic Battle Over The Toilet. I'd like to be easy going Mom about this all, but I am SO OVER this potty training thing. This child can stay dry and clean all night long, but she can't do it during the day when she's awake? That's a whole other post, but I was just trying to get her to go before she went to school since no one's seen her poop for three days and every time we put her on the toilet, she sits there for the better part of an hour and until they give up tell her to go play. Then we find her five minutes later hiding in a corner with her legs crossed.

When I finally got her off gave up and took her to school (I lost this Toilet Battle; the Toilet War rages merrily on), I went to the massage place and they couldn't fit me in until later in the day. The pedicure place wasn't open yet. I quickly rearranged my to do list and hit the organ (heh heh... see?) next. While I was there, The Dormouse's school nurse called me saying she'd been in the nurse's office for the last hour complaining of "dizziness" and they thought I needed to come pick her up.

"Does she have a fever?"

"No."

"Does she feel like she's going to throw up?"

"No."

"Any other symptoms?"

"No. But you'd better come get her."

"Are you sure? She was fine when I left her this morning and I don't think she really even understands what 'dizzyness' is."

"Well, she's been in here for about an hour and she says it's not getting any better, so I think you'd better come get her. Can you come right now?"

What I am going to do for a dizzy child at home that a REGISTERED NURSE can't is beyond me. But this all just confirms my suspicions that the end of the school year is just around the corner and that the teachers and staff are a bit... I'm gonna say trunky, because can't be bothered to give a damn seems judgmental.

Realizing that was the end of My Day, I canceled all of my appointments, drove back to the school to pick up The Dormouse and took her home. Where she ate some lunch, and then proceeded to bounce off the freaking walls of the house because THIS CHILD WAS SO NOT SICK.

Then I picked up The Caterpillar, where they happily handed her to me along with a plastic bag full of one soiled outfit and four pairs of soiled underwear (seriously??!? they couldn't put her in a pull-up after the THIRD pair of soiled underwear?) and we went home to continue The Battle of the Toilet because she never did really poop that day.

Moral of the Story: Keep your expectations low and your hygiene lower. You'll save yourself a world of disappointment.