Rachel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Be warned. Long post ahead. Writing serves as therapy for my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Yesterday was one for the records. What. A. Day.

Let's start at the very beginning, shall we? A very good place to start. (I'm funny. and if you know why I'm funny, so are you.)

Nels has a demanding job. This is an understatement. Last Saturday Nels decided to get up early and go into work to "finish up" a project so that he wouldn't have to worry about it on Monday. Tuesday he was leaving town and needed Monday to be able to get his department ready for him to be gone. He was gone most of the day and it didn't get finished. He woke up at 5 in the morning Monday to again "finish up" said project, so that he could spend the rest of the day wrapping up things in his department. Rachel had a hair appointment that afternoon. Nels would be "finished up" so he could watch the girls. Nels was still "finishing up" said project at 4:30 when Rachel had the appointment. Nels was still "finishing up" said project when Rachel decided to take the girls (ALL BY HERSELF) to Olive Garden for dinner. Nels finished up the project at 9:30 Monday night.

Melaleuca sent Nels to NAB (National Association of Broadcasters) in Las Vegas. He left Tuesday morning before the sun came up, and flew home Thursday night, well after the sun had set (and was halfway around the globe). Nels had a grand time staying up until the wee hours of the morning in Las Vegas each night. What was Nels doing in the wee hours of the morning in Vegas?? Learning about new cameras. Going to a meeting for people who use Final Cut Pro. (I think it was kind of like AA. :)

Tuesday and Wednesday had a few rough patches, but nothing that I can't handle.

Thursday was April 15th. Generally a very uneventful day each year. I generally finish our taxes around the middle of February. This year was no exception. I was pleased with myself.

This year we received another 1099-MISC (like a W-2, except it's for freelance work) at the END OF FEBRUARY. After I had completed our taxes. After we had received our return.

THIS year. I got to learn the ropes of filing an amended tax return AND paying back the government a portion of the money they had just deposited in my checking account. Not only did this measly $925 need taxes paid on it, it also put us in a different tax bracket -- increasing our taxes and decreasing other credits. You want to know the difference this nine hundred dollar made in our return?? FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS! Owning a "small business" is not always all it cracks up to be.

Sorry. I got sidetracked. So since I was so exciting about paying the US Government and the State of Idaho the taxes I owed back to them, I waited until Thursday morning to take care of it. Please keep in mind that #1 - I'm awesome . . . and proactive . . . and #2 - I have a baby who "needs" to be held. by mom. all day. that day.

I pulled out my taxes, downloaded Form 1040X, opened up the instructions, and began at 9:30 AM. It. Was. A. Long. Day. Violet didn't get held all day, as she desired. Violet cried a lot while Mommy poured over "Instructions". Hazel and Lilie whined about being hungry while Mommy flipped from website to website, trying to figure out why her figures weren't matching up. Elsie peed in her panties and proceeded to spend half the day in her nothin's running through the house. Lilie cried "not fair" when Mommy finally tried to (and succeeded in) convincing her to PLEASE find Elsie some panties from her laundry basket so that she could spend the other half of the day playing in the backyard, in nothing but her undies. Hazel and Lilie bawled about not being fed lunch while Mommy yelled, "Just one minute! I need to get this finished!! I'll be there in just a second!" Hazel eventually found apples and tortillas to feed the Motherless, Naked, and Hungry.

I was getting close at 4 o'clock when I happened to realize that we were out of printer ink and envelopes. I packed up the kids to "run" to Walmart "really quick" to get ink and envelopes. Hazel, Lilie, and Elsie were still hungry. I promised them we were almost "finished up". We would go to Walmart, run home, print the papers, run to the Post Office, and then go eat dinner wherever they wanted. At the park? Sure we'd eat dinner at the park.

First off, Walmart and "real quick" should never be allowed in the same sentence, since together they form an oxymoron (and every mother who does use them together is an oxyMoron). Secondly, nothing that includes four children and "running" to several different places is even remotely close to being "finished up."

We got through Walmart. The girls stayed in the van while I "ran in the house" and proceeded to spend a ridiculous amount of time getting everything printed. The girls stayed in the van while I sat in the front seat sorting through all the papers to figure out what to file where and which form when with what. All the while still hungry. At 6:05 the girls had been sitting in the van for a very long time, Violet was getting hungry and fussy, and we were finally headed to the Post Office. At 6:15 I walked through the Post Office doors to find them closed and a paper on the wall saying the closest place to get letters postmarked "April 15th" was in Pocatello.

At this point I pretty much had a mini breakdown. As did the girls when they realized that we weren't going to the park to eat dinner. It was like the cherry on top of the Crap Sandwich that had been our day. I pulled myself together. I found a babysitter (who sweetly didn't mind babysitting RIGHT NOW) and picked up a pizza. Left the 3 oldest at home. Grabbed a bottle and my then hysterically sad and hungry infant and left them with my dear, sweet friend and headed to Pocatello. Determined that this was NOT going to beat me.

I made it to Pocatello at 7:55. The Post Office closed at 8:00. The two fat envelopes containing my money and my sanity were finally out of my hands and on their way. Postmarked April 15th.

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One of the funniest things to me about having a blog is that as I reflect on my day, I start to organize it in my head, in story form. As I was doing exactly this, while driving alone to Pocatello, I thought, "You know, I usually am able to find something funny about my bad days. Not today. There is nothing funny about this day." And there wasn't. I felt mad that Nels was gone (while still genuinely hoping he had a good time). I felt irritated about spending all day crunching numbers and finangling tax programs and yelling at tech support people. I felt SO BAD about honest-to-goodness neglecting my kids all day. I felt worried about just having realized that I had left the babysitter at my house, with my three little girls, with no telephone available to her, should something go wrong. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest for leaving my little angel-baby at my friend's house crying and hungry and just wanting her mommy to hold her. So many Not Funny feelings.

Yet.

As I looked out the window, I was able to see the sun setting across the newly green fields. Shining emerald green through the tiny little sprouts of wheat, just barely out of the dirt. One of my favorite sights to see each Spring, those beautiful green fields, while everything around them is still goldy-brown and dead.

As I drove, having realized I'd left my iPod at home, I turned on the radio. Flipping, flipping, flipping through channels. I realized that with no kids in the car, I could turn it up as loud as I wanted. As loud as I felt.

Did you know, that I can make my voice sound like the guy who sings "Brandy" - you know, "you're a fine girl. what a good wife you would be."? As much as Nels doesn't like Bon Jovi, I love singing along with "Livin' on a Prayer" -- especially at the top of my lungs -- to people in the car passing me. Also, when uninhibited, I can hit all the notes in the song "Hero" by Whitney Houston. Whenever I hear AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" I think of my sister Melissa and how she would listen to this song all the time while her now-husband was on a mission - and she was waiting for him. LOL. If you've never seen Melissa sing along with AC/DC you haven't lived. :) I know every word to the song "Sold" by John Michael Montgomery. And no matter how hard I try, I cannot make my voice sound like Mick Jagger. It's sad, but true.

By the time I was driving back to Idaho Falls, I felt better. I was worried that I was going to run out of gas and/or have my bladder explode, but emotionally, I was feeling much better.

Sometimes even a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day can have a silver lining - if you let it.