Out of Pocket. Again.

After replacing my cell phone, oh, 17 days ago, I was having trouble getting used to my new one. I have not had a chance to re-enter even a third of the phone numbers from the old one, and am still mourning the pictures I had saved on it. Anyway, in a scramble to leave this morning (I wasn't running late, it's just ALWAYS a scramble these days) I strapped Davis in and had my purse, diaper bag, lunch on ice, soda, keys, bag of Target returns and cell phone on top of the car. I wrestled him in and gathered my things, filling the front seat with all the crap I carry around everywhere I go.

Whenever I am trying to leave the house, I have two options:

1. Strap the baby into the car and then go back in to get everything, leaving the kids unattended in the driveway (remember my garage door doesn't go up - at all.) Totally unsafe.

2. Load the car while Davis races to pull all of the laundry off the couch, pour out the dog bowl and carefully remove his socks, shoes, and pants. Oh, and did I mention every time I go toward the door he is trying to come outside with me and I can't close the door for fear of smashing his fingers?

3. Plan ahead and pack the diaper bag, lunch box and car the night before. Fill sippie cups and snack trap beforehand and have it ready in the fridge. Like I said, two options.

So, the inevitable happened today. Of all days. I gathered my things from the car trunk lid and drove away only to discover an hour later that I had driven off with the cell phone sitting on top of the car. The neighbors Jorge and Ballardo later helped me search the street for it to no avail.

I went on all of my errands anyway, which included my daily chiropractic appointment (during which Jack told the doctor "Mommy sits with a crunched over back and Daddy tells her to sit straight."), a pediatrician appointment (during which Jack was diagnosed with croupe, and after which he spilled hot chocolate down his dress shirt.), a trip to Bass Pro Shops (hence the dress shirts) to see Santa (during which Davis screamed his head off and pooped his pants. Literally.) and an unplanned stop at HEB (to buy diapers since I realized I left the entire diaper bag at the aforementioned pediatrician's office.)

When we checked out we had to pay for (I KID YOU NOT) an empty milk bottle, an empty chocolate milk bottle ("since that's not fair that HE gets milk and not ME") an empty Dr. Pepper bottle, an opened box of Honeycombs, a banana peel, an opened box of Pampers, and opened Baby Wipes. Oh and a sippy cup wrapper.... from the full milk cup in my son's mouth... that had not been washed. "You might be a redneck, IF..."

And, even though I thought of him several times today, I never called Dad to wish him a Happy Birthday. Man, I really hate that.

It is SO hard to recover from these days when my helper doesn't get home until 8:30 at night every night. This week has been stranger than fiction. I told my friend Victoria you just can't make this stuff up. And all of this after Friday...

... when I lost my keys at the school after Jack's class party. And Sarah had to come get me, Jack, Davis, stroller... and took me back that night to get the car only for me to discover that the keys were in the ignition the entire time. Not only did I never see them there, but the teacher searched, an announcement was made, the custodian searched the cafeteria... the whole nine yards. Think it can't get worse? Well, the keys were not only in the ignition, they were in the on position. As in, I was listening to the radio and running the A/C while getting the stroller packed before getting Davis out. And never turned it off. Meaning the car was dead. So, we had to go back to Sarah's to get Ken to come help me jumpstart the car. At midnight.

I drove it around for ten minutes listening to K-LOVE all teary-eyed wondering how long it would take for this to become a funny story and how exactly I was going to tell Jeff about this one.

I told him. A few days later. He was kind, but I wouldn't exactly say he thought it was funny.

So, all of this to say.... don't call my cell phone. Or my home phone for that matter... unless you are calling to tell me you found my cell phone. Or inviting me to Girls Night Out. Or coming to bring me dinner, clean my house, or babysit. ha

On the bright side, my back is feeling better and we were able to get this:



We are still focused on the Reason for the Season... through it all...