Waiting for Batman

You know how we all have "those" days? Days where not only does it all seem to go wrong, but our reaction to it all going wrong is somehow completely disproportionate to the actual events?

That was my yesterday.

I've been playing it cool lately. Not getting stressed over all of the little things. Focusing on the good and being thankful and all that jazz.

But here's where I'm going to start to whine a little. Woe is me. My life is hard.  I need Batman to show up and fix everything.

Last week, I had my wisdom teeth out. In my mind, I was going to be completely fine and back to running two days later. Maybe even the next day. In reality, it's 5 days later, and my face is still swollen and hurts. I got some sort of cold on top of it, so I have felt crummy all week. ALL week. Add into it that I'm not sleeping well because I like to sleep on my stomach and that's not working right now, and you have one grumpy mama.

All summer Papa has been working overnight one night a week. It's all good. I can handle it. Except I don't sleep when he's not here. I'm sure that burglars are lurking outside, just waiting to come in, knowing he isn't here to protect us. I mean, he would definitely protect us, but he's not Batman. So, I leave all of the lights on (sending a loud and clear message that we are awake all night long, burglars), thereby making it even more difficult to sleep. And at every tiny little noise, like the fat cat thundering across the house, I jump out of bed. Ready to protect. It's exhausting trying to be the super hero. When does Batman sleep?

Tuesdays are dance class for Tiny Dancer. My cell phone was dead, so I left it at home. Thought I would take the boys to the park while she danced. It was drizzling, but they were having fun. All good. Until the moment about 45 minutes in when I heard the car click. Yeah, someone had left the lights on while we were sitting there. I'm not sure who, exactly, would do such a foolish thing. But someone did. We walked ourselves over to the dance school, found a mom I sort of know, she called her husband, and he rescued us. Batman? Not quite, but a good substitute.

By this time I was worn out. Face hurting, hungry but not for the soft foods I could eat, tired. I decided to splurge and get the kids some McDonald's for dinner. We never eat there. I'm not super strict about what they eat, but I can't get thoughts of what that "food" is out of my head. But I was tired enough to not care for one night. Drive through the drive-thru since we need to keep the car running. At home, we're getting everything situated when one of the kids (I don't know which one, and that's probably for the best) drops my soda all over the floor. All. Over. The. Floor.

You might think they would spring into action to clean it up. But they are kids. And so they stood there, looking at it. While standing in it. Totally dumbfounded. Um, get some towels, kids? Clearly, we need to work on our cleaning skills. And our jumping into action skills. Seriously, where is Batman?

None of it was a big deal. My floor needed to be mopped anyway. Maybe that was just what I needed to get that job done. I can sleep tonight, maybe. Or tomorrow. There's plenty of time left for sleeping. Right?!?!

I think I just need Batman to swoop in here today and take care of everything. Do you think he does floors?