Today is Monday and it is acting like a Monday. (I hate it when stereotypes live up to their reputation).

Today started out fine. Thanks to the greatest hubby ever, I slept for the first time in a few nights. I woke up at the time I planned. Got ready… all is well. Got the Bean ready in her cute new jeans that Grandma got her over the weekend. (To go with the dozens and dozens of outfits we have for fall and winter.)

Then I came downstairs and took the pups out. So far so good.

Then I started to feed the dogs. Itty still won’t eat. She hasn’t really been eating for about a month, today was no exception. Frustrating, but I go with it. I put the food down early, then let her pout at the food while I fix the Bean’s food and get her fed. This morning, with folks in town, a few other things are necessary and I move along with them.

Open the fridge to get milk for the Bean — damn. Almost out. Enough for breakfast, but need to go to store so she has some for school. Apparently it is a hotter item in the house than planned. Alas, we move on. I figure out how to build this into my day as my mom comes down and offers to go to the store to get some more. (Yay Mom!)

Just about the time Bean is finishing the milk and I am ready to feed her the sweet potatoes, she proceeds to projectile vomit all that she had to eat so far this morning.

It wouldn’t have been so bad except she had about 5 ounces of milk. Now all 5 ounces are sitting on her cute outfit, the high chair, the chair the high chair is on, the floor and the tray. Eww. Also, it is getting to be time for Itty to really eat, so I add a few morsels of extra tastyness to encourage the appetite. She looks at me as though she is laughing and saying “HA! You think that meager little piece of meat is going to change MY mind this morning… you must be crazy!”

Alas, no time for that, now we have to bathe the Bean and go for outfit number 2. Thankfully all are clean — and sort of sorted… so won’t be too bad. Upstairs we go, bath the child. Dress the child. All while cranky because she is hungry (I say this one is on her, but she disagrees and insists she be fed immediately).

Back downstairs to clean the highchair, tray, chair and floor. Eh, it’s wet… OK… but I am in a hurry. Put a towel down and call it done. Sit Bean in chair and feed her. She is no longer hungry. Encourage the child that she is hungry, and get her fed. All is well again.

Why won’t Itty eat?? and I encourage (aka, spoon feed) the tasty morsels to get enough down her to give her a shot.

Eat my oatmeal… now cold. Begin the lecture portion of the morning, starring  father about various Mt. Crumpit topics.

OK. Everyone is fed, let’s start work. Only 10 minutes late… I can deal with that.

No… Monday has other plans. Hubby’s vehicle is broken (water pump blew out. It was already dismissed as the reason for previous problems by mechanic, by the way).  He needs to get the Bean to daycare, himself to school and allow us to have the only car on the Mountain back so father can do the things he needs to do for the day. Mom to the rescue again! (Starting become a huge fan of this lady). She takes the bean to daycare, takes hubby to school, gets lost on the way home and makes it back in time to get the car to the father.

The car that is here for folks to drive… “where is that?” you ask… OH. it was broken. Found out day before they got here. I ask C what the status is (the day before folks leave)… It’s ready to be picked up he says. Was ready last week, he says. Not sure who didn’t tell me (the one paying for it), but it is fixed now. The day before the folks leave. WHAT EVER.  Now I am not only late for work, but I have stuff to do. Luckily, there is a plan.

Hubby is at school and needs a car at 5:00. I will have his car fixed. Already called the dealership to express my discontent, got a free tow, just need the keys to have the whole thing covered. Just need the keys. Hubby left the house with the keys in his pocket. Luckily Mom is with him and he can leave the keys with her and we can get the car to the mechanic.

I get a call from the boss man at the dealership assuring me all will be taken care of in a timely manner. Normally I don’t call the boss man. I hate people that do that. But I have already had a few problems with them, the issue is a warranty issue and maybe they just needed to understand that I do know what I should expect out of service and I do know something about the mechanics of the car and I don’t like being told I have to settle for things that will annoy me until the end of time. Instead, I want to continue to like the car instead of start feeling it is a POS. Which it isn’t.

When mom comes home, she has no keys. With all the hubbub, hubby forgot to leave them with her.

So I call dealership to let them know that while I am still frustrated, I will have to be frustrated tomorrow when the car actually makes it there. I think frustration lost something in this translation.

So far, Frantober isn’t working out as planned…. Monday lived up to the stereotype. Hubby is at school, Bean is at daycare, I have two cars, although not the same two planned… But I have high hopes about the day improving. This afternoon will be better.

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After re-reading this, it is more bitchy than I meant it to be, so I feel it’s necessary to say that I was frustrated, but laughing at the same time. Really – if you can’t laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?