And then there's the mental breakdown I had this morning. A real fun fest, let me tell you.
I'm on edge because after dropping the boys off at preschool I need to book it to the podiatrist to have a consult for my surgery (thinking about surgery makes me want to vomit - and that's me trying not to be dramatic). Justin leaves for work and I finish packing lunches and drag the boys upstairs so that they can hang out in my bedroom while I shower. I finish up and go to slide the shower door open and it's effing STUCK. So I jiggle, lift, and attempt to force the doors to slide but nope, they're hung up on each other and only liftable from the outside. NOT GOOD. I ask Jack to bring me the phone which he slips through the two inch opening and the boys start panicking a bit because I TOTALLY AM. I cry to Justin. He offers to call the neighbor but our doors are all locked so that ain't gonna work. He offers to come home but it would be 40 minutes and I need to get going. So I hang up the phone and use that adrenaline that allows mothers to pick up cars, to hoist myself (WET AND NAKED AND CRYING) over the entire shower door frame contraption and manage to drop down the other side without breaking my neck. I might have slightly pulled a hamstring.
I tell Jack and Harvey that they're my super heroes and Jack tells me "I forgot to get you a ladder!". I tell him he was AWESOME for getting me the phone and for not crying. I blow dry my hair, using the hot air and white noise to calm myself (worked like magic on Jack as an allergic colicky newborn) and watch my blood pressure lower via the GIANT BULGING VEIN in my forehead. Good. times.
I'm going to go now. I think I'll drink something