I was not particularly zen when we reached home yesterday. Granted, the boys were good on the flight, but the morning had been harried, the flight was awfully turbulent at least 50% of the time AND Oliver melted down every two minutes about something so inane that I wanted to disown him. Jack threw a tantrum at bedtime because he was "NOT tired" which really means he's exhausted, Nutmeg threw up twice, and I hit the sack at 8p. The best part of the day was seeing Nutmeg, pukey though he was. This morning sucked the big one, and then I schlepped both boys to the dentist where we found, unsurprisingly, that Jack has two cavities. He has the worst dental hygiene of any child I've known, so frankly I think this is an obvious and good consequence from which he'll learn. Fortunately, both cavities are in baby teeth, but I think the old drill will teach him a lesson or two.
Afterwards I made the profoundly bad decision to take both kids to the market with me. Not only was all of DC there too but also the kids literally talked me into insanity. I was shaking on the drive home during which I called T, told him to be waiting outside to help bring in the groceries and plan to take the boys away from me until he goes to the gym at 4:30.
I ate a quick lunch from one of last night's take-out containers, left my phone at home and hauled my riddled ass to the Bloomingdales shoe department for some retail therapy on the cheap via the post-Xmas sale. Two pairs of fabulous shoes for insanely good prices. And then the most spectacular pleated leather skirt that was not on sale but which I convinced the spunky salesgal to sell me at 30% + $75 off. Who won? Moi. I am now going to the gym, a bottle of champagne is chilling, and I intend to have a lovely NYE here at home with my hubs and NOT the children who will be sawing logs. Amen!