Just another manic Monday.

It's already been another month. Can't believe it. And already the 1st of December?!? WOW. It's truly the happiest time of the year, if you stop to realize the magnitude of Jesus coming to earth as a tiny baby. I'm sure Jesus never threw tantrums. What do you think?

I've been sick. And Oliver (ear infection), and Stetson (bad cold) and Chad (sinus infection). I know, poor us. Well I'm just telling you so you know that my patience was already thin. Monday is Walmart, grocery, laundry, get the house in order day. Anyone relate? And, for those who stay at home, you know that Monday's are lame at home just like they're lame in the working world. So, on Monday we set out for our errands. At the post office, Oliver loved mailing the letters and buying stamps. At the bank he begged for a lollipop to which I said no and promised I'd give him one in Walmart (I knew I'd be desperate for a distraction at that point). We finally make it to Walmart. By this point, he is tired (I can't help he wakes up at 6 am), and hungry (I can't help he picks at his breakfast). He doesn't want to ride in the buggy, he wants to walk. That's not even remotely possible, so I put him in the buggy. Here ensues tantrum number one. We manage to get it under control, and start shopping. He demands a lollipop. I told him I'd give him one if he asked nicely. He knows how to do this and is actually very sweet when he does, but because I asked him to, he's too stubborn to do it. Fine, no lollipop. Here ensues tantrum number two. I keep shopping trying to ignore the "you're a horrible mother" stares and the screaming coming from the front of the buggy. Finally, my patience is worn from thin to thinner and we head to the bathroom for a spanking. At this point, it's imperative for you to understand that I "wear" Stetson on my chest in the infant carrier while I shop. It keeps him happy and quiet and is just easier, but it makes it almost impossible to hold Oliver, or pick him up. I make it to the bathroom, manhandle 30+ pounds of flailing extremities out of the buggy, and pop him as best as I can with another 20+ stuck to the front of me. Poor Stetson, he really did have a front row seat, like it or not. When we make it out of the bathroom, the whining/screaming starts again. I decided then and there to just leave. So, I did. And, I. WAS. MAD.

Side note:

Dear unfortunate walmart employee,

I am so sorry that I had to leave my buggy full of perishable food in the sleeping bag isle at your store. I would have bothered to cart it back to the "food" section, so it could have been more easily noticed; however, my patience was down to "thinner" at that point, you see? I sincerely hope the beef stew meat, chicken breasts, and milk weren't completely spoiled when you found them. I wish I could say I'd never come back, but we'll be there again on Monday. Thanks.

Chad came home from lunch that day. Thank you, Jesus. Oliver acted like an angel while he was there. Of course. Ah, just another day in the life. Anyways, Chad and I made a big "to-do" about it (rightly so), and he's been perfectly behaved since then. What is it with Monday?