I really do love my husband. He's a great guy. Today--my frustration level is high.
I woke up this morning to, "What's on your agenda for today?" I told him--work. Pick up the kids from school. Take Emily to dance class. Come home. Make dinner.
To this I got: "Well, the pack meeting for Cub Scouts is tonight".
Now, it's not just any pack meeting. It's the Blue and Gold dinner. A pot luck. Which requires--a dish.
That's not bad enough--worse yet is that last Saturday Brian finally bought his leader shirt. With all the unsewn patches that need to be sewn on by tonight.
So I am frustrated, and I tell him he shouldn't spring this on me the ONE DAY OF THE WEEK that I work. Thursday is my "busy" day. And I think to myself, "You can iron them on! Just like Emily's daisy uniform."
So I get up. Make sure the kids are getting ready for school. Locate the shirt. Look everywhere for the bag of patches and finally find them in another bag in our bedroom. Look at the back of the patches, that all appear to be iron-on-able except one. Alright, things are looking up.
I haul out the iron. Our ironing board broke, so I am using a towel on the kitchen table. And I follow all the directions to iron on the patches. The same way I did with the girl scout patches. Only these--don't stick.
Nope. Nada. Not sticking. And I can't have them fall off. The damn numbers cost $1.25 EACH and there are 4 of them, and I'm not rebuying them. So I go haul out...my sewing machine. "Alright", I tell myself, "This will take a little longer, but still not bad." Brian, in the meantime, has graciously agreed to run the kids to school (seeing as it is -12 outside).
I get the sewing machine in position, plugged in, turned on. I locate my thread caboodle and see that there is indeed red and blue, and already bobbins to match, so I am in good shape. I go to thread my machine....
The arm that holds the thread on the machine is broken and missing. It broke off about...8 years ago maybe? I super glued it. It wasn't great, but it worked. Now it is missing. So I look in the closet where the sewing machine was, and can't locate it. Great.
I go through my sewing box trying to locate a hand sewing needle, and can't. I just don't have any. Then I remember the sewing kit in my purse...where down the bottom of one of the pockets where the kit is, there is ONE needle.
So I have just taken 10 minutes to write this blog. Now I need to wash my hair, get dressed for work, locate a recipe for this pot luck and then work. On the way home hopefully stop at the grocery store to do the fastest run through yet to grab whatever it is I might need to make this recipe I haven't found yet. Come home (where I am sure my mother will be waiting), go pick the kids up (as it should have warmed up to -1 by then, but they will dawdle on the way home and Emily will be late for ballet). Go to ballet--where I will bring the shirt and hopefully have some time to hand sew on a patch or two. Then come home, make the dish to pass, make dinner for everyone else, finish sewing on the patches and go cry in the corner until bedtime.
Oh and I almost forgot! To make this scenario complete, my dad is fixing Brian's car. So at some point I will have to pick Brian up from work. And pick up his car tonight after the pack meeting.
It's going to be one of those days....