So, here I was making all these plans in my head at work today.  I work
from 6:00 am to 2:30 pm.  "I can stop by the post office, get some of those
damn stamps so I can pay my bills so they won't shut off my electric and
phone.  Then I can run home, change, grab that basket of laundry that
*really* is almost two but I crammed it into one, and do that so I don't
get stuck doing $20.00 worth of laundry at once again (I have to go out to
do my laundry).
 
I can write that Please- accept-my-apology-let's-start-talking-again letter
to my sister while I do the laundry.  Then I can come home, sweep the
downstairs because it's nasty, little "things" everywhere I don't want
ferrets snuffling in.  Then I can clean the kitchen and cook Phil dinner so
it's done when he gets home at 5:30 so he can eat and go to school.  Then I
can clean the bathroom and sweep the bedroom again before Buffy comes on!
I can watch Buffy, and then do my last round of Everyone Has Food, Water
and Isn't Being Eaten By Alligators check.  Then maybe I can read some and
then Phil will come home, we'll give Boo her medicine and try and wind down
before midnight so I can get that 5 hours of sleep before I have to get up
and put a truck away!"
 
I was late leaving work.  I had to argue with a manager that is like a foot
shorter than me and probably weighs 80 pounds soaking wet in four layers of
clothes.  Damn skinny little midget!  I drive to the post office and the
car line is out in the STREET!  I rush home to find Phil left Set One
babies out all day.  I rounded them up, put them in the cage and sat down
for a minute as I changed clothes, letting Set Two babies and Monitored
Baby out.  Maiya is romping around, the beautiful bundle of Heaven on
Earth that she is (she's a staggeringly gorgeous silver girl).  My sweet,
sweet, sweet boy Shelby is in the bathroom playing How Fast Can I Unwind
The Entire Toilet Paper Roll!!!  Sturmie, recovering from last week's
Insulinoma surgery is doing his best to give me heart attacks by trying to
climb up onto the bed.
 
So, an hour and a half behind, I firmly resolve to start my list.  And then
is happens.
 
Tassie hasn't been feeling well...sleeping in the hammock for almost two
days straight.  She climbed out of the cage while I was chasing a gleeful
Shelby down the hallway, trailing paper behind him.  I sat down to lace my
shoes and up climbs someone.  I thought it was Maiya Bug, trying to take
another stab at that lit candle.  Wrong.  It was Tassie!  I voiced my
surprise and happiness and then gave her tiny little Mommy Head Kisses.
She climbed into my lap, proceeded to curl herself into that tight, compact
little ball and went fast to sleep.  I was stuck.  So I did the only thing
a rational, two hours behind parent could do.  I lay down, tucked her
closet to my chest near my heart, pulled my shirt up over her, pulled the
blanket up over my stomach and watched Oprah while she slept.
 
So now I still have my bills in my purse (they'll have to deal with it), I
haven't written my sister (she can stay mad another day), I didn't do that
laundry (oh well, the laundry lady will just laugh at me again as I haul
my entire wardrobe in next time), the bathroom is still dirty (I'll have to
skip reading after Buffy), and the kitchen is an absolute disaster (hey, he
HAD to have a good meal before school tonight).
 
But I don't care.  *shrugs* Nothing in that stack is nearly as important as
her sleepy little head and her little toes that ended up resting on my lips
for me to kiss.
 
Tomorrow IS another day!
[Posted in FML issue 2561]