Oh, rueful day

Today was filled with bad behavior -- much of it my own -- combined with a set of rotten circumstances beyond my control. I think we mommy bloggers need to air our dirty laundry from time to time because it usually feels heaps better to hang out the nice, pretty stuff for everyone to see, which doesn't present an accurate picture of everyday life. Lest you think it's all sunshine and roses here, the following is my list of complaints and a few regrets (just for today, mind you):

For starters, it was Thursday. No matter how hard I tried, there was no getting out from under this perennially cursed day of the week.

Then there were the ballet mommies. These ladies made little effort to welcome me, the newcomer, to the waiting room while our daughters tapped and twirled together for 45 minutes. They also paused awkwardly in palpable silent judgment when I said: "No, my 3-and-a-half-year-old is not in preschool yet and we're still deciding abut next year."

And what about that ballet baby brother? One of the offspring of previously mentioned mommies (an ox, so called by his mother, in fact) made off to the bathroom with our copy of "Brown Bear, Brown Bear"--C's current favorite book, correction, obsession and I didn't see, but I'm pretty sure the bruiser snatched it right out of little C's hands. Arrgh!

Diaper rash is back.

The dishwasher is still broken. We're going on a month-and-a-half now. I'm getting more than irritated by the situation and I plan to launch a weekly nagging campaign with our property manager until it's fixed, starting tomorrow. I know, I'm a bruiser.

I'm tired and I can't blame it on N being out of town. I stayed up too late watching "Top Chef" last night. (On a side note, the judges clearly made the wrong choice. Leah totally should have been sent home.)

I can't shake recurring thoughts of the disturbing dream I had last night about how my poor performance on the relay screwed up Michael Phelps' chances at winning all golds.

The messes. Oh, the messes. Specifically the way the sunlight accentuates the grubbiness of the spotty picture window in our livingroom.

Finally, most regretful is the fact that it took me until 3:30 p.m. to take stock of enough tiny accomplishments today to help me make it until 8 p.m. I can count three such blessings, and because I hate to wallow in self pity for too long, here they are:

... saying I was sorry after shouting at L for not minding me all morning, then wrapping her in a fuzzy blanket inside my hug for a few minutes to elaborate on that apology.

... stopping in the midst of folding clothes, prepping dinner, tidying clutter, clearing dishes, drying my hair and countless other tasks to read "Brown Bear, Brown Bear," yet another time to C, with the voices.

... ignoring my concerns about urine on the area rug to let that sore little bottom air out a bit.

And that is all I can claim for today.