When the wheels come off here they come spectacularly off. And oh are they off. The wheels are not only off, but our wheelless bus is skidding sideways, sending up sparks from its tireless rims as it screams 80 miles an hour down the interstate.

On Monday Fraser had swim class. I packed everyone in the car and drove 20 minutes there only to realize as we got out of the car that I had left the bag with his bathing suit and towel by the door at home because I was concentrating so hard on not forgetting the diaper bag. So we drive all the way back home, pick up the bag, drive all the way back to his lesson, scramble out the car and run across the parking lot (me carrying Eleanor in her car seat with one arm and the diaper bag, bag with suit and towel, and Hammie in the other) while yelling at Fraser to hurry up, get Fraser changed and everyone else de-hat, glove, coat and boot-ed, race into the pool and arrive only 5 minutes late (we were still the first ones there) and then Fraser refuses to get in the water. So, i spend the next 25 minutes trying to encourage and/or bribe him to get wet. Once the lesson is technically over I drag him to the side of the pool and tell the instructor he at least has to get wet. He goes in "reluctantly" (which means, kicking and screaming for all he is worth) for about 60 seconds. Then he gets out, spends another 15 minutes or so screaming while I get everyone back in socks, boots, gloves, hats and coats and we schlep back to the car and back home. (Unlike the previous week, however, at least I didn't leave my cell phone in the locker).

On Tuesday I get up with Hammie and make oatmeal for everyone. We have a nice breakfast, the day is looking up. I actually manage to wash some dishes and fold a load of laundry. I change Eleanor's diapers and Hammie's diapers. I pull the car down the driveway to warm up and begin the whole hat/glove/coat/boot ritual again. I get everyone in the car to take Fraser to preschool and Hammie to music class. I am feeling pretty good about how relaxed our morning has been, perhaps I am getting the hang of things! As we turn down Corey Hill road i wonder where the school bus is, we are always behind the school bus on Corey Hill. I glance at the clock, it says 9:06. Wait, it says what?? Crap!! We are an hour behind schedule! What the hell?!? Yes, somehow I managed to forget that we need to get ready to leave the house at 8 not 9. Double crap. So now Fraser is a little over half an hour late for school. I run in and am trying to jam his sneakers on his feet when his teacher kindly offers to take over. I jump back in the car and speed through Gardner (which is particularly unwise since I just got a written warning from a cop in Ashburnham for speeding on Sunday) get on the highway and speed to Westminster where we are 15 minutes late for Hammie's music class (which is only 45 minutes long). Then hat/glove/boot/coat/car seat., back to school where I breastfeed Eleanor in the car while Hammie has snack in the backseat (celery and soy nut butter do not make a good snack for a 2 year old to eat in the car).

Then we got in to pick up Fraser and his teacher pulls me aside and says "We were putting Fraser's artwork in his backpack and we found his tuition check (which was due last week)" Oops. Like this woman didn't already think I have cat food for brains. Back in the car and off to the post office. In case you have never sent mail to a military address, they make you fill out this annoying form anytime you send a package. So, everyone is tired and complaining and I'm trying to fill out the form while rocking the car seat with one foot while trying to keep an eye on Hammie to make sure he doesn't eat the sticker the clerk gave him and an eye on Fraser to make sure he doesn't feed his sticker to Hammie or Eleanor out of sheer boredom, and then finally back in the car. Next to the bank where I have to deposit 2 checks, which is more complicated than it sounds since my checkbook has been MIA for, oh I don't know, 2 weeks at least. It could be behind the washing machine, it could be somewhere in the car, for all I know the aliens took it when they came to abduct my mind. Then home. lunch. fighting, nap for Hammie, not for anyone else. More fighting, some crying, a few "no biting and no hitting" lectures. Daddy's home! Dinner, no bath - Mommy is too stressed, diaper, PJs, brush teeth, stories, bedtime, NCIS (otherwise known as time to feed Eleanor until she passes out), bedtime for Mommy (fall into bed and drool on self). Try not to think about doing it again tomorrow.

If that didn't make your head spin, congratulations, you have been elected to take over for me as Mommy after they drag my mumbling, drooling, whimpering self away.