Mom and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

We are big fans of the classic Alexander books by Judith Viorst so whenever we have a have bad day, we frequently threaten to move to Australia. But last Monday was the bad day to beat all bad days. I mean, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. It was truly a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. And the only way to come out on top after a day like that is to laugh it off. Hope you get a little chuckle too.

Mom and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

The toddler woke up at 4:40am because his molars were hurting him and while I was trying to get him to go back to sleep, the preschooler woke up, pooped and “wiped” himself. We were down to the last roll of toilet paper and the last pair of clean underwear and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At breakfast, the toddler threw his plate on the floor because he was still hungry. The preschooler screamed at the toddler at the top of his lungs because “WE DON”T THROW THINGS IN THIS HOUSE” and by the time I came back from the freezing cold where I was cleaning up the dog’s business everyone was screaming, even the dog.

I think I’ll move to Australia.

We were late for preschool because everyone forgot how to get dressed, the dog had separation anxiety and there was no food in the house to pack in the preschooler’s lunch. I didn’t even have time for coffee. Who needs coffee?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

At the grocery store, the toddler attempted to dive from the cart repeatedly. All the lines were long and we had to go through the self-checkout. While I was yelling at the register over an alleged “unauthorized item in the bagging area,” the toddler ate the cardboard macaroni and cheese box. After we left, I realized I forgot to buy bread. And toilet paper.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I could tell because the toddler took a ten minute car nap on the way home from the store and the dog was ON the dining room table when we got back.

The preschooler refused to eat half his lunch and then insisted that he was starving when it was time for naps. The toddler would only eat MY lunch.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

That’s what it was because when I went to the dentist, he said my incision was healing nicely, but when I got home it opened up and started spraying blood all over the kitchen. After the third time it opened up, I rushed back to the office only to find it was closed. I called the dentist at home and he told me to come in tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’m going to Australia.

At bedtime, the toddler’s pajamas were two sizes too small and he stood in his bed alternating between singing and yelling for almost an hour. The preschooler made his father ask him seven times to pick up the cars when it was time to read books. By the time they were both asleep, the dog had fumigated my bedroom with her macaroni and cheese farts.

The dinner dishes are still piled up in the sink because my brain is melted like double-decker strawberry ice cream cone on a hot day.  It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. My husband says some days are like that. Even in Australia.

Inspired by the book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Judith Viorst. If you’ve never read her Alexander series, check them out at your local library!

This post originally appeared at Mom of the Year. For a less serious look at the world of parenting, meet Meredith.