My Good and Bad day

I took my kids to a "Transportation Fair" this morning. It's an event that our local ECFE puts on annually that is basically a big gathering of miscellaneous cars, trucks, hot-air balloons, what have you. My husband was on the advisory board of the ECFE group that puts this on, and was the chair of the transportation fair committee. He took his role very seriously as he tends to do. So he was "working" at the fair, part as a board member and part as a representative from his company with a vehicle at the fair.

This left me to take my 2 children to each and every vehicle by myself. Didn't seem like a big deal in theory this morning before we left. Some of those vehicles have really tall steps and those seats are quite far off the ground. It is nearly impossible to help 2 children who both want to climb up into these vehicles. I'm happy there were no accidents, no blood spilled (well, a little from M's burn that is healing...but really that's unrelated). But next year we will either not go, or will enlist Amma or Boppa to help. M had a blast though. K spent much of the time repeating "up, up" or screaming because the loud horns scared him. He's also terrified of people dressed as characters so the local semi-pro baseball team's mascot had him clawing at my legs to try to climb back into the womb, while M was running up to hug the mascot. Could I possibly have given birth to 2 more polar opposites?

Anywho. We endured as much as we could (I'm using "we" when I mean "I") and decided it was time to leave but then M spotted one of her friends from preschool (also part of the ECFE) and ran over to her. "A! Come on, let's go play" and they ran off to the little playground that is in the park there. Poor A's Mom "Well, we were about... oh forget it" About to leave eh? Yeah, me too. She also has twin boys about the same age as K, and her boys were also unsettled by the loud horns. One of the boys kept repeating "home, home" maybe it's the age.

So I got to talk to one of the Moms that I see every week during M's preschool (Do I dare call her a friend? It seems so presumptuous...but that's another topic, as is M's preschool). It felt really great to talk to her outside of the class, and just to laugh about our common experiences. I also talked a bit with her hubby because I spent quite a while last night reading blogs that I recently found out "friends" (if I can be so presumptuous) have. Her hubby's was one of them, along with another mom's from the class, and her sister's. But again I digress. Wow I'm really fragmented with my thoughts tonight...or maybe that's just all the time.

Anyway, A's Dad and I went to retrieve our respective offspring after we let them play for a bit and I left the fair feeling pretty good, because it's little things like talking to a fellow Mommy who really GETS IT that make me feel good.

So we went home and I made lunch. Microwave mini-cheeseburgers and grapes. Oh well, they ate good. K had fallen asleep on the way home but I tried to get him to take a longer nap. Well, Dad came home and so there was no nap. Dad went out to mow the grass. We have a lot of grass so this is a 2 hour process. I spent about an hour trying to convince M that we really needed to go to the grocery store since I needed some veggies for the "dish" I am bringing to the potluck for M's last day of preschool.

Hubby seemed in a reasonably personable mood as we were pulling out of the driveway. We decided on tacos for supper and he ran in the house to check that we had all the supplies for this meal. He reported back that we were fine on taco supplies and M has meanwhile lost one of her play earrings. So, we have to search for that. I finally spot it caught in her hair. She laughs, and laughs, and laughs until she has tears streaming down her face. Hmmm. She might be a bit tired.

She fell asleep in the car on the way to the grocery store. Both kids were grabbing things off the shelves as we walked by. In short, it was a crappy visit to the grocery store.

We get home and my hubby has for some reason turned into Mr. Grumpy Pants or some stronger-language name. He hardly talks to me at supper and as I'm getting our son out of his booster seat I broke one of the latches on the tray. So I say "Well, I guess I just decided to break K's chair." And I just said it sort of matter-of-factly. His response was, "What the F...? Nice." Okay, so I didn't break it so that it's unusable, I just broke a part of the latch. Really not a big deal...and it's not like we paid for the seat--it was a hand-me-down from a friend. And that's what I said "Well, I didn't realize that this was a big calamity since it's not like we paid a lot of money for it. Sorry I broke it!" He says "oh, you broke it, I thought K did" So I say "what difference does it make who broke it anyway?" So he starts slamming things around again as he was doing as he prepared the tacos...probably what ticked him off? That he had to brown hamburger and put some seasoning on it after his day of handing out candy and mowing since I was JUST taking care of the kids all day? So I asked him if I did something wrong. "WELL, I don't like being attacked." Huh?

So that's what I get for keeping him up late last night. And he wonders why that doesn't happen more often. Hrrummph.

Husbands. It's a good thing they're cute.