Mourning a Monday Gone Wrong

by Lisa Douglas

Oh, holy hell. Monday was a hot mess. More than a Monday usually is.

My 5+ year account was hacked, which lead to a barrage of phone calls to everyoneandtheirmother to change passwords, cancel accounts and cards and “block” and “identity theft paperwork” and a whole slew of sh!t I never want to deal with ever never ever again.

It didn’t help that I was up earlier than intended because of the dishwasher – my well-intentioned husband turned it on before he left for work at 5:30am, because we had forgotten it the night before. It was outrageously loud in the early morning quiet.

Baby Dude had an accident in his shorts of the dreaded poo variety. After consuming corn the night before. Use your imagination. (Also related: Ew.)

Baby V is full-on in Terrible Twos mode already, even if she’s only eleven-months-old today. (Also related: HOW THE HELL DOES THAT HAPPEN?) Baby V could not be put down. She wouldn’t do anything but nursenurseTHRASHnursenurseSMACKnursenurseBITCHSLAP and then nurse some more.

I had other slight emergencies of the email variety – ones that required immediate attention and two hands with which to type swiftly, but all I could do was cage the flailing infant with one hand while doing my best to hunt-and-peck with the other to respond. And pray, silently, for her upcoming nap.

Finally, when her will to HULKSMASH finally seceded, and she finally went down for her much-needed (and anticipated) nap (ahem), it was already time to go pick up the elementary school children. After not even five minutes, she woke up while being snapped into the car seat.


There were many other littler craptastic things that happened; things that would’ve been no problem whatsoever normally, if Monday wouldn’t have been The Day That Sucked Spectacularly™ already. But it was. And so these infinitesimal, huger-that-normal issues didn’t help. And my nerves were shot. And momma actually considered darting out the door for a long distance, screw-em-all kind-of run as soon as everyone got home.

But I didn’t.

As soon as my oldest son came home, however, he read my face like I’d written about my day in Sharpie across my forehead, and took Tiny Terror Baby V for me. “I can do my homework later, mom. You could use a break. I want to help you get your sanity back”

I nearly cried.

He played with her upstairs. I heard their laughter, and the occasional scary WOMP that would occur when something would get dropped. It was funny (in an ironic, kind of way) I finally had time to BREATHE and FUNCTION and drink another cup of coffee, and eat something other than a spoonful of peanut butter or a Clif bar, and all I could do was sit there, staring at the wall with a quivering lip, practically paralyzed by how awful of a day it had been, and how there were still many more hours to go until it ended.

Today, I am grateful that it’s no longer Monday. Today, I am mourning what could have been fantastic start to the week, after a pretty decently awesome weekend. Today, I am grateful it’s Tuesday – a new day. A fresh start. One that hopefully doesn’t begin with a dishwasher before dawn, poop on the floor, and a clingy infant bashing me in the face repeatedly.

What about you? What are you grateful for today?

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