this just in: motherhood is freaking exhausting

I spent the entire day out with my two darling children. It was Errand Day.

Errand Day always falls on or just after the most important day of the month: Pay Day.

I had three errands on my list when I left the house this morning: Drop off rent. Target. Grocery store.

On the way to Target, I decided to get coffee. I unloaded the boys and got my favorite drink - medium-triple-iced-vanilla-2%-latte - in decaf. Somehow, I really thought it would have a placebo effect and I'd be bursting with energy in ten minutes.

Not so much. And it tasted different.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, I called my doctor's office (hands-free, of course) to see if maybe-just-maybe I could get an antibiotic for what I absolutely knew was a urinary tract infection. We women know when this little delight comes calling, don't we?

Nope, had to be seen first. Could I be there in twenty minutes?

We drove back across town to the doctor's office. Is there anything better than peeing in a cup with two hungry, cranky children in tow?

Guess what? UTI.

After the impromptu doctor's visit, I decided we should have lunch with Ben and his assistants. We met up at a very popular Vietnamese restaurant. We squeezed into the only available booth - all six of us. Lucas screamed. Ben fed him with one hand and maneuvered chopsticks with the other. I performed the Dance of the Distracted Child with Eli and tried to get my food into my mouth without being able to raise my elbows. I wondered why I thought this was such a great idea. The staff probably had the same thought.

After lunch, we beelined for Target. A trip to Target always involves the question: ride or walk? Eli is old enough to hate riding in the cart, and generally is good about staying with me. I chose to let him walk this time, and decided that we would just take our time and mosey. We made it through the entire store - including the toy section - without a single tear, screech, or whine. Just as we were leaving, Eli discovered a spinning airplane candy thingie that he absolutely Had. To. Have. I gently instructed him to put it back.

He stuffed it down his shirt. Visions of juvie danced in my head.

I needed to pry the toy from his death grip without making a scene. I tried the lighthearted approach: "Heh heh, you funny little shoplifter, let's put it back now!" I tried counting to three. I tried being matter-of-fact: "This is NOT OKAY."

I tried the Get Up Next To His Ear and Threaten Bodily Harm While Keeping A Pleasant Countenance So No One Calls Social Services method.

Finally I just yanked the damn thing away and stuffed it into a random box of candy.

Eli collapsed on the floor in a puddle of weep. Heartbroken sobs. Oscar-worthy, really. I scooped him up and carried him - sob, sob, sob - out the door.

Back in the car, Eli apologized ever so sweetly. He asked my forgiveness. He asked for a hug.

My cold little heart melted and I told him that if he would get into his seat and be very quiet while I unloaded the cart, I would give him the special treat I had picked out in the store. He was pumped.

I told him to close his eyes and hold out his hands. I placed the handpicked gift in his little hands - a Valentine's Day book about puppies. He opened his eyes.

He threw the book on the floor and yelled, "I WANT A DIFFERENT TREAT!!"

I almost left him at Target.

Oh, and after that we still had the grocery store, the dry cleaners, and the pharmacy.

And I never did pay my rent. Crap.