My Day (Be Glad It Wasn't Yours)

So, today...it all started off innocently enough. The weather was gloriously beautiful and wonderful and springy. We put James on the bus and Katie, Tyler and I took a long bike ride. We came back, dug in the dirt, planted some seeds, and set up our picnic table umbrella. Then we hopped back on our bikes and rode Katie to school. It was very nice. After that, we went to a friend's house who is moving and she bestowed upon us a whole bunch of groceries she did not want to pack. It was kind of like Christmas, only with cans of tomatoes and bags of pecans. Everything was fine and dandy til the kids got off the bus and proceeded to each have their own personal meltdown, properly staggered so as to maximize the frazzled Mom factor. Then while I was making a fine dinner of leftovers (ha!!) I dropped a glass which hit the leftover cilantro lime chicken I was going to eat. Of course, it broke in the food. So I cleaned it up, and had a sandwich instead. While I was filling someone's cup, I found out the hard way that I had missed a piece of glass and it jammed itself into my toe with as much gusto as meteor striking earth. At the same moment, Tyler started freaking out about something earth-shattering, like 'I dropped my fork!' or something equally trivial. So I was dripping blood on the way to the bathroom while he shrieked in background and Katie told him in her best Mommy voice 'Mama's bleeding. Bleeeeeeding. She can't help you right now, OK? She hurt herself.' I removed the glass, slapped a bandaid on it and went back to my peanut butter sandwich. Tyler brought himself back to earth and we had a relatively calm dinner. Afterward, we decided to take another walk and I slammed my finger in the door. At that point I contemplated the likelihood that I would have some freak bike accident, but threw caution to the wind and went anyway. Thankfully no bike accident, and if you're counting, yes, it was our third bike ride. I returned home to find out that I had somehow inadvertently locked a chicken in the garage, which subsequently scared the poop out of it. Literally. Somehow, at some point, I ended up getting the kids into bed and I am not drooling or twitching (yet) so I consider that somewhat of a success. That, and all my (bruised) digits are still attached. It's the little things.