If You Think Your Day is Rough, Just Wait Until You Hear About My Weekend from Chaos

On Friday night, I was craving pizza for dinner. With an empty pantry and a long day of work behind me, the last thing I wanted was to haul two hungry kids to the grocery store. So, I decided to check out the Firetrail Pizza website for their delivery number. From the name alone, I should have anticipated the mishap. After being disconnected and redirected twice, I finally got through, only to discover that the number listed was for a brewery, not a pizza place. In hindsight, I should have embraced the universe’s hint—perhaps a beer would have been a less stressful choice. But hunger took precedence.

While attempting to place my order for a pear-gorgonzola pizza, my daughter, Lily, began to cry. I picked her up, and she quieted down. The moment I set her down, the wailing resumed. The person on the line sounded less than pleased. Desperate for pizza, I locked myself in the master bedroom to finalize the order, feeling like a trapped animal, terrified of accidentally ordering something I detest, like olives.

Twenty minutes turned into forty, and forty morphed into an hour. My family became increasingly hangry, and I was tapping my fingers on the counter, anxiously pacing. Finally, I called the delivery driver, only to find out they had no record of my order. It was bedtime, and I had to act fast to avoid a meltdown. So, I ordered Thai food instead. My Yelp review about the pizza was bound to be blunt. We ended up eating nearly three hours after I’d first called.

Saturday’s Challenges

Saturday rolled in with its own set of challenges. My cranky, teething toddler decided to skip the breakfast I prepared and opted instead to feast on our morning routine. She clung to me like a koala and sobbed into my ear. I desperately needed a coffee fix—preferably with a side of silence.

Lily, my five-year-old, somehow managed to sit on maple syrup while sporting her ballet leotard, leading us to be late for class. As if that wasn’t enough, when she finally got there, her tap shoes were nowhere to be found. Nonetheless, she danced on, sticky and shoe-less, while I made a quick escape to the café down the street for a much-needed latte.

As I placed my order, I set my daughter down at my feet. The barista was working her magic when I attempted to pay. “Your card is declined,” the cashier informed me. I tried my debit card, praying it would work. There was no reason for it to be declined, especially since my paycheck had just been deposited.

Frustrated, I stepped aside to call my bank, keeping an eye on my latte. Lily began tugging at my pant leg, tears streaming down her face. As I turned to console her, my keys and credit card slipped from my hands, clattering to the ground. Just as I bent down to retrieve them, I heard a rip and felt a breeze on my backside. The entire café witnessed my floral underwear in all its glory. No way was I leaving without my coffee. I awkwardly scooted to the wall and made a beeline for my latte, imagining Lily’s reaction when I finally picked her up.

Arriving at the ballet studio fashionably late, I tried to sneak past the teacher, head down to avoid any unwanted attention. However, the chaos didn’t stop there. That afternoon, we had a swim lesson and a birthday party to attend. At the pool, Lily decided to ignore the instructor’s requests, opting instead to lounge on a ledge. I watched, mentally calculating how much money was being wasted.

After a bit of coaxing, she apologized and finished her lesson. We left the pool, and I felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps the day was turning around.

Birthday Party Mix-Up

Next up was shopping for a birthday present at Target. We hopped in the car, set the GPS, and headed to the party. Upon arrival at Lucy’s house, we found it empty. A construction worker informed us that Lucy and her family weren’t home. Wrong party. Wrong day. I wanted to cry. As Lily began to whine and escalate towards a full-blown wail, I realized we still had a chance to make it to Jake’s party, which was a short drive away.

Finally arriving, we were nearly two hours late. I still don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to go, especially since it was a Halloween-themed party, and we stood out like sore thumbs.

Sunday’s Struggles

On Sunday, I took Lily to the right birthday party, equipped with the correct gift. It was sweltering outside, and as Bee melted down, I decided it was best to leave early.

Returning home, I realized we still had no groceries. I attempted to take Bee to the store, but she flat-out refused and threw a tantrum in the driveway. I considered joining her in the fit of frustration.

Monday was a new day, and I dropped Lily off at dance camp, counting my blessings. At least she didn’t have a syrup stain on her leotard today. However, when I reached my car, I discovered I had locked my keys in her dance bag.

I rushed back inside, interrupting her class to retrieve my keys as twenty pairs of eyes watched in disbelief. I dashed to my car, eager to make it to work on time. That’s when I realized I’d also left my phone in her dance bag. My head was spinning. Maybe I needed another cup of coffee.

After a work meeting, I picked Lily up again and set my phone on top of the car as she changed in the backseat. As I drove away, a loud SWISH and THUNK echoed behind me. It wasn’t until I reached the office that I realized my phone was now somewhere on the streets of Petaluma.

Petaluma, enjoy that pricey gift; you must need it more than I do. At least you didn’t take my wine or my latte.

Final Thoughts

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In summary, if you ever feel like your day is spiraling out of control, remember that sometimes, it’s just a matter of perspective. My chaotic weekend certainly tested my patience, but it also reminded me to appreciate the little moments—even when they are messy.