background music: Alannis Morissette, Ironic

A bad-Midas day here today. Everything I did or touched either fell apart or ended up being a bad idea. Thank goodness Bear has to work tonight - I might break him too. (Um, I have to take time off - my wife broke me.)

Yesterday I went to the hospital to see my doctor after office hours and found out what I assumed was a pulled muscle in the middle of my chest (R is getting to be a bigger sack of potatoes) was actually the muscles in my chest aching because they were trying to expand my lungs. My very first asthma attack, and not a wheeze out of me! I survived the vile-smelling masks and the resultant shakes afterwards, and slept like a log last night.

Today? I wake up, roll over, go to get my glasses off the nighttable and... drop my inhaler three feet (maybe) to the ground and break it. Teeny tiny pieces.

The kids were playing in the bathroom and dumped my shampoo, my face scrub, and my body wash in the tub. I really don't recommend trying to grab a gloppy handful like I did - I'm still picking bits of crushed apricot pit out of my hair. But I do smell squeaky clean.

I mopped the floor. Ten minutes later the cat threw up on it.

C broke his sandal, so off we went for replacements. He deliberated over every pair there before choosing one. While waiting in line to check out I looked down and realized the shoes he really liked had pink writing on the soles that read "Rachel II". Yup, girls shoes. C was horrified.

The ones he (grudgingly) settled on don't have the usual strap-behind-the-ankle and are useless for running or jumping or bike riding, so I suspect we'll be back looking for more soon.

C really really really wanted to go for a bike ride. It was later than I would have liked but why not? Tossed R in the stroller and off we went. He was having a great time and so was I until R started crying and waving her hands around and I noticed the black flies love them some little girl. I reached in the stroller bag (prepared! I come prepared!) and realized I'd emptied the bag last week.

We saw a turtle on the way back - a little painted turtle, which are lovely and not scary and often kept as pets - and C was nonplussed. I think the smallness of it scared him - it was very different than the turtle he was used to.

Lovely long baths, nice snuggling while reading books, then bed - even a request from my son to sing to him before he went to sleep. This night might end well after all!

I was halfway through the song when his sleepy voice came out of the darkness. "Sing it gooder, Mommy."

I want a do-over. And a cupcake.

Thank God tomorrow is another day.