Friday morning I set out to accomplish one single thing: get a birthday present for Summer's party that night. I usually take Summer to pick out the present for the specific friend, but we ran out of time. All she requested was something related to the movie "Frozen." Considering it is still out in theaters and extremely popular right now, I didn't think that would be an issue. I fed Livi an extra large breakfast, packed a sippy cup, snacks, and made sure my phone was fully charged (for endless access to the Disney Junior app, obvi). I really didn't want to go far or on a big trip, so I figured Kohl's would have something "Frozen"-related. Olivia and I arrive and traipse into the store. I found a cart with the kid seat in front (sometimes hard to find, so a total score). Four meltdowns, spilled raisins, and zero birthday present later, I am awkwardly sweating while trying to just get out of the store alive. Every Minnie Mouse item (Kohl's ratio of Minnie toys to all others is downright shocking) caused a screaming, whining, pleading fit by my oh-so-lovely daughter. I refused to bend and get her a single item, so knowing her you can imagine the rampant distress. I got her strapped in to her carseat, and set off to home weighing my (slim) options. 1. Bite the bullet and just make the trek to Target. 2. Endure what would surely be a horrific trip to Olney Toys. 3. Wait and risk it to see if a neighborhood girl could come over after school so I could run out somewhere. None of these options seemed awesome. As I sat at the traffic light, the massive Kmart sign loomed before me. I apologize if you enjoy Kmart, but this particular Kmart is close to the depths of the grossness of the world. I am right here. I should just do it. I will just shower and scrub all the Kmart germs off me as soon as I get home. Okay. The hope for a quick solution and the knowledge that I will never step foot in there again (meaning I don't care about saving face with a screaming child) filled me with confidence as I made my way over to the right lane to attempt to turn in and find the parking lot. I ended up turning into a 7-11 parking lot, which just so happened to be strangely filled with grown men just standing there. I'm talking over 20 men just staring at this stupid small blonde girl in a ginormous Navigator (Matt informed me later that they stand around and wait for work???). After quickly locking my doors, making zero eye contact, and turning around as fast as I possibly could, I made my way to the proper parking lot and continued on my way. I know this may shock you, but Olivia had roughly three meltdowns as I made my way frantically up and down each aisle with absolutely no sign of anything from "Frozen." The last meltdown hit my very last nerve, so I knelt down next to the stroller to give Olivia (yet another) serious talking-to (because obviously they work so well). Out of the corner of my eye, I see the prize deep within the strange-smelling, dusty shelves. FROZEN. A DOLL. YESSSSSSSSS. I am so relieved, I grab it and nearly sprint to the checkout. After courteously refusing their rewards card (never.again), we got back in the car and finally made our way home.
Now Friday night was Summer's very first evening birthday party. Usually they are Saturday or Sunday mornings/afternoons, but this one was from 6-8pm on Friday. She was super excited about it. As soon as I gave her the go-ahead, she showered, blew out her hair with her very own Hello Kitty blow dryer, picked out her outfit and jewelry (navy polka dot tunic, pink leggings, cowgirl boots, silver sparkly belt and silver heart dangly earrings), and then drew a card for her friend. She was so strangely mature and independent it totally freaked me out/was amazeballs.
Post-party we had a small dance party and Livi watched a few shows on the iPad. As I said on facebook, it is actually sad that her clearest sentence is, "Mom, the iPad died." Mom of the year right here.
Saturday brought another Visitor's Day at Summer's ballet:
I had a bachelorette party on Saturday night for a dear friend which was totally amazeballs (this pic is of me and Liz, not the bride-to-be):
So on Sunday we were going to a neighbor's house for a Superbowl party, but Matt had called me earlier in the week from work with an additional activity. We have Caps season tickets, but he gives a ton away to clients and sells others. It just so happened that we had all four of our tickets available for the 12:30 game on Sunday. He wanted to go as a family. Since it is utterly adorable that Matt wanted to take four women with him to the game, I agreed... despite the fact that I assumed I would probably be prettttttyyy tired from the night before. I slept at Liz's house (her hubby picked us up late night), and woke up by 8:30 to pack up my stuff and get home. Somehow, my stinkin BLACK eyeshadow (from the Naked2 palette), decided to explode... all over Liz's carpet. Everything I did while trying to clean it up just made it worse. I was in panic mode. The little balls of black just seemed to crumble and spread more with every second. There was a solid 14-16 inch space of destruction, and I was about to pee my pants. I didn't want to wake them up for my idiocy, so I crept downstairs in hopes of finding carpet cleaner. My heart lifted at the sight of Resolve, and I ran upstairs praying that it would work. IT DID. And I was able to confess with a nearly clean rug. Crisis averted.
Thirty minutes later than anticipated, I got on the road to go home. We quickly got everyone ready (it took me absolutely forever since I seemed to have black eyeshadow on absolutely everything and a smear would just appear on my face at random moments), and left to drive down to the game. Since we usually take the metro, Matt decided to call a friend of his (who buys a bunch of our tickets and typically drives down) to ask where he usually parks. On speakerphone, his friend described where to park and innocently said, "Yeah my and [my son] are on our way down there right now." Matt has a funny look on his face, and says, "Really. Hmmm." He quickly gets off the phone, looks over at me, and says, "I am so confused. I swear we had all four tickets." We, in fact, did not have all four tickets. We only had two tickets, and we were parking at the stadium with five of us. Now before you give Matt too much crap, the way that the season ticket holder stuff works, this is actually a very understandable mistake. All we ever take to the game is his little card that has the tickets loaded on to them. He transfers the tickets via the website to other people who can print them out. He had been looking up multiple games and probably was just looking at the wrong one. After continuously apologizing profusely to me for this mistake, and us just sitting in the parking garage unsure of what to do, we made our plan. One of us would take the two older ones in (they were so excited, we just couldn't turn around and go home). The other would stay in the Greene Turtle and keep Olivia occupied (aka eat). Now I need some acknowledgement of how awesomely I handled this situation. I did not for a second get mad, irritated, or anything of the like. Yes, I was exhausted. But what is more fun... getting mad over an honest mistake and ruining the afternoon? Or laughing about it and making the best of the situation. I told Matt to take them in, and I had an awesome time with an absolutely perfectly behaved Livi (SHOCK).
Matt had a great time for the first period with the older two:
And then we ended up sending Livi in for Layla during the second period. Livi apparently was obsessed. Like she didn't move. Totally mesmerized. And she clapped after every play. What a nugget.
So we successfully navigated this little hiccup and had a great afternoon. Then we went home and I slept for two hours before heading to the Superbowl party. Then I woke up on Monday morning feeling like the weekend didn't actually exist. And I was kind of a waste of life. My sister lured me to her house with guacamole and cheesecake.
Happy Thursday!! I wish everyone a very non-Kmart day :o)
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