...wasn't one of my best mothering days. After at least one meltdown from each of us (most of us, two), I packed the kids in the car at 8am and drove 25 minutes to the only drive-thru coffee shop I know of. I drove all the way back to the city, and not quite ready to face the laundry that has taken over the bedrooms, I continued the drive another 45 minutes in the opposite direction. We went into Target, where I bought three laundry baskets. That will help, right? Then we drove back to the city.
Once there, I realized Fiona had joined Elsa in her nap. Well, there was no way that I was going to risk synchronized napping, so the driving continued. Another 30 minutes. Until I realized that none of us had eaten (more than a few bites) and that I am a horrible caregiver (I even left the bird with yesterday's food). Desperate, I went through a drive-thru and got burritos and chips. By the time we got home, it was past noon and Fiona begged for a movie so I let her watch one. Scratch that, two.
Sheldon got home and made us dinner while we all had more meltdowns. He took Fiona up to sleep while I stayed downstairs with Elsa, who was giving Fiona a run for her money as the most-cryingest-baby-ever. I bounced, sang, rocked, wore, and held her in every position at every pace, my eyes darting around like a madwoman. Holy crap, I think I'm losing my mind. The carseat, I need to swing her in the carseat! I ran franticly into the kitchen and started to strap her in when I looked down and saw this...
This smile. Not just any smile. The smile that takes up her whole face just like her father's. Thank you, Elsa. I love you, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Tomorrow is going to be better.