Tidal waves.

The moment when one feels like they are failing at everything, yet has nothing to do, is a painful one. I caught a long, wonderful triple play of a nap today. The house was clean, but I was dirty, so I fixed that with a long hot jacuzzi......in which I tried to remedy the growing pit of anxiety in my stomach with some deep breathing. It didn't work. So, I got out.

Then I pretty much paced around the house. Then I made a list. I made two. When my post nap time freed up because a friend was busy, I decided to go to Target. The kids got up, we got in the car, we had a great talk about picking out gifts for others (the sharing tree at school) .......and I realized half way to the store that I didn't bring either list. Awesome.

Taking three kids to Target is a bit like rubbing glass into ones eye. You just keep rubbing and blinking, though it doesn't really make anything better. In target talk, you just keep saying things like "no, they don't need that (a vacuum) and don't touch that, and Jake, stop saying "BALL" and wiping Jake's horribly copiously snotting nose surreptitiously with ones hand because to carry a diaper bag would just be gauche when one is in this deep, and explaining why the everysinglething is not something that we need..............while simultaneously trying not to visibly sweat through ones down coat or Ugg boots and wonder how exactly one is going to

a. prepare dinner for ones husband who is en route home (due in at 6!) from 3 days away and

b. expalin to ones husband how a mop head and some cookie supplies and some 'cheap gifts for the sharing tree' totaled $180

while:

c. Trying to think,

because

d. One forgot the damn list.

Then, when one gets home, and goes to turn on the damn grill, and the damn propane is empty, and one tries to replace the damn tank in the damn dark with three (darn) kids standing at the door..........well. One sweats. A lot.

Damn.