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On Friday night, I was craving pizza for dinner. With an empty pantry and a long day behind me, the last thing I wanted was to pile my two hungry kids into the car for a grocery run. So, I hopped onto Firetrail Pizza’s website to find their delivery number. Right from the start, I should have sensed trouble. After being disconnected twice, I finally got through only to find out the number was actually for a brewery. At that moment, I should have embraced the universe’s hint—beer instead of pizza. But hunger had other plans…
As I placed my order for a pear-gorgonzola pizza, my daughter, Lily, began to cry. I picked her up, and she quieted down, but as soon as I set her down, the wailing resumed. The person on the phone was clearly annoyed. Determined to get my pizza, I retreated to the master bedroom to finish the order, feeling like a trapped animal. I was paranoid I’d inadvertently ordered something revolting, like olives—yuck.
Twenty minutes ticked by, turning into forty, then an hour. My family’s patience was wearing thin, and my anxiety grew. I finally called the delivery driver, only to discover he had no record of my order. Bedtime was fast approaching, and I had to act quickly to avoid a meltdown. So, I placed a new order for Thai food, already envisioning a scathing Yelp review about the pizza place. We ended up eating nearly three hours after that first phone call. Where was my dinner? At this rate, I was ready to settle for a glass of wine, if only I could find it. Could it really get any worse?
Saturday rolled around, and my cranky, teething toddler decided to skip breakfast in favor of clinging onto me like a baby koala and crying into my ear. All I needed was more coffee and a moment of peace. Meanwhile, my five-year-old, Mia, sat in her ballet leotard, getting syrup all over it, making us late for dance class. She had a lovely brown stain on her behind.
When we finally made it to class, Mia discovered she’d forgotten her tap shoes. Undeterred, she danced—sticky and shoe-less. I took my toddler to a nearby coffee shop to grab a latte. As I placed my order, I confidently slid my credit card into the chip reader, only to be met with, “Your card is declined.” Panic set in as I tried my debit card, praying it would work. I needed that coffee to survive this chaotic weekend.
After another sigh and a struggle with my wailing child, I bent down to pick up my keys and card, only to hear a rip and feel a draft on my backside—my floral underwear was on full display to the entire café! Nevertheless, I was determined to get my coffee. I hurriedly scooted to the counter, imagining Mia’s face as she waited for her late mom.
Arriving fashionably late to the ballet studio, I did my best to avoid the teacher’s gaze, desperate to go unnoticed. Maybe I should have just stayed home, but the show must go on.
Later that day, we headed to a swim lesson and a birthday party. At the pool, Mia ignored her instructor and sat on the ledge, not really learning how to swim. I watched my money sink, thinking about how fast it was flying away. Eventually, she apologized to her swim teacher and completed the lesson. Sunlight greeted us as we stepped outside; perhaps things were looking up.
Next, we ventured to Target to find a birthday gift. After loading up the car, we set the GPS for the party, only to find Lucy’s house was empty. Confused, we stood on the porch as construction workers bustled around. A friendly worker informed us that Lucy and her family weren’t home. Wrong birthday party. Wrong day. As I felt the urge to cry, Bee began to whine and fuss—she desperately needed a nap. We still had a chance to make it to the actual party, even if I didn’t know any of the parents. I needed a win this weekend!
Arriving at Jake’s birthday party a whopping 35 minutes late, we quickly stopped at Safeway for a present. That’s when Mia vanished. One moment she was next to me, and the next, she was gone. Panic surged through me as I called her name while Bee squirmed in the shopping cart. Ten minutes later, I found her casually holding a book, as if nothing happened. Furious, I dragged Mia back to the car, and by the time we got to the party, we were nearly two hours late. Did I mention it was a Halloween-themed party? We stood out like sore thumbs—social anxiety at its finest.
On Sunday, I finally took Mia to the correct party with the right gift. The weather was sweltering at 90 degrees, and as Bee started to melt down, I realized she was glued to the floor in a tantrum. We left early, and still, our pantry was bare. I planned to grab grocery bags, but Bee fell asleep in the car. I carried her to her room, where she napped for three hours while my stomach growled in protest.
When my toddler finally woke up, I attempted to take her out for groceries, but she refused and threw a fit in the driveway. I almost joined her in a tantrum of my own.
On Monday, I dropped Mia off at dance camp, thankful for small blessings—like the fact that she didn’t have a syrup stain today. However, upon returning to my car, I realized my keys were still in Mia’s dance bag. I had to dash back into the building and interrupt her class as all the kids stared at me, while I rummaged through her bag to retrieve my keys. I didn’t want to be late for work!
Once I finally got back in the car, I realized I’d also left my phone in her bag. Clearly, I needed another cup of coffee. With my head feeling scrambled, I brushed it off for later.
After a few hours passed and a work meeting concluded, I picked up Mia from daycare, where she quickly changed in the backseat. I set my phone on top of the car—big mistake. As I drove off, I heard a loud SWISH and a THUNK. It wasn’t until I arrived at the office that I realized my phone was now homeless on the streets of Petaluma.
Petaluma, enjoy my expensive gift; I hope you needed it more than I did. At least you didn’t snag my wine or my precious latte.
For more relatable stories, check out this post about home insemination tips to keep the good vibes rolling. If you want to learn more about the journey to motherhood, visit Cryobaby, an authority on the subject. For excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, explore Medical News Today’s fertility section.
Summary
In this humorous recounting, Jamie shares a chaotic weekend filled with mishaps, from pizza delivery disasters to dance class blunders, culminating in a series of unfortunate events that test her patience as a parent. Through it all, she manages to find humor and resilience, reminding us that sometimes, it really can get worse, but it’s all part of the adventure of motherhood.
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