my really bad day.

Let me tell you about my Yesterday.
{This is not a pretty story.}

Yesterday I needed to make cupcakes for a birthday party. I was out of butter, so I ran to the store. I came home only to discover I was out of sour cream.
So I ran to the store.

Knowing it was a “baking day,” I put no thought towards my appearance. I had thrown on a T-shirt and jeans, knotting the T-shirt 80’s style. As I was checking out (the second time), the checker lady asked me what my shirt said.
I sheepishly admitted, “uh, Happy Father’s Day.”

Lovely. I ran home, made cupcakes, and whipped up some frosting.
I took the kids and the cupcakes to the birthday party, and they all had fun. There was a lot of candy involved, and pizza, and ice cream and cupcakes… perfect kid-party, right?

We get home and I am beat. I’m so tired, all I want is a nap. I put the baby down so I should be entitled to a short little snooze, right? After all, they just had all that fun!
My kids decide this is the time they absolutely must talk to me
I am interrupted–literally–every 5 minutes. I could actually predict the next tap-tap-tap on the door. I was so irritable and exhausted at this point, I blew up and said the next person at the door was grounded.
{This was followed by three more tap-tap-taps, five minutes apart.}

Finally, their knocking woke the baby up. I came out and yelled and ranted and grounded the younger ones (who were the worst offenders). 
Jordan came back and told me I “didn’t handle that well, and shouldn’t have yelled at the girls.”
Any predictions on how I handled that

Finally Gary came home and advised me to go on a ride somewhere. Anywhere. Apparently Jordan had sent him a text asking if Gary would cheer me up, because I was being really rude.


So I left, went shopping, got some great deals on cereal (the Winder Dairy milk was included in this sale! 4 gallons at $4.29/each for free!). My mom called, I chewed out my mom, and I somehow dragged my sister into it.

I came home, told Gary what I said, who told me how dumb I was (that’s my version of the story anyway). 
Any predictions on how I handled that?

I put Abigail in the car and went on a long drive. Abigail threw her binky and bottle multiple times, necessitating the need to pull over and give them back to her.

Finally I went home and took some Tylenol PM–my foot was killing me and I wanted to fall asleep before I offended anyone else.

Have you had days like this? What do you do? Scream? Throw things out the second story window? Gaaaah…

Today is a new day. A better day.

Anyway, I made this little sign to hang up on my door. I’m (secretly) calling it my “go away” sign. 

I hung it up on my door in a page protector. 
On the other side I put a “please knock” sign.

I mounted a piece of metal above the sign to hang my amazing Pampered Chef timer, a long with a magnetic dry erase marker. When I need a break, I set the timer, and they can let me know if they’ll be at their friends’ houses. Hopefully this will lead to a more peaceful rest time!

*Disclaimer: if your child is not old enough to read the sign, I can’t actually advise you to use this sign. Use at your discretion and within safe limits.*
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