What a day...

Just another day in paradise - full of critters, bee stings and blood. Ah, parenthood.

As if its not bad enough that we have a mouse (or mice) in the workplace, I came home from work today to a little "surprise" - my parents had found a dead mouse in our basement playroom. AHHHHH. When J got home from work, the girls took him down and I hear them shout "It's not dead, its sleeping." Big A laughed like it was the best thing ever. She ran upstairs and screamed "I didn't know this was going to happen today!" Neither did I.

After disposing of the mouse, we headed to Big A's t-ball game - in the nearly 100 degree heat. Good times. As we sweated on the bleachers, Little A kept climbing on me and I muttered, "This is torture." As if to taunt me, I suddenly felt a prick in my finger and looked down to see a half-dead bee hanging out on my thumb. Ouch. Being an adult kinda sucks, because you can't even cry when you get stung by a bee. You just have to kinda brush it off and look brave all the while wanting to scream like a baby and get a Popsicle for your pain. Or is that just me?

We headed home and Big A asked me to change her earrings...easy enough, right? Ha! I should have known to quit while ahead. I took one out and noticed some blood...some kind of puss-filled ball had burst when I took the earring out and it was pouring out. Gross. I cleaned her ear and attempted to put the new earring in. Kids must have super-galactic healing skin because in the 2 minutes her earring was out, her skin seemed to have fused together. In the ensuing fuss, the earring flew out of my hand and went...you guessed it - right down the sink drain. Sigh. Cue screams.

I immediately blocked the sink from use and we went in her room to put on her other pair where we couldn't lose it. The ear started bleeding again and she jumped - the earring went flying. I told the girls to shake their clothes. At this point, Little A was naked except for a diaper so she said, "I can't shake my clothes, but I can shake my belly." A moment of much-needed humor. Big A peeled off her clothes and after a few minutes, I finally found the earring on the carpet. I managed to get both in her ears amid some screaming. Crisis averted.

As I put Little A to bed, she requested her usual: "Rub my back and sing a song." I began to rub her back and sing her favorite tune, when suddenly she looked up. "Just rub my back. Don't sing a song."

I think its time to call it a day.