Mama Said...

There'd. Be. Days. Like. This.

And it's been nothing short of one of those days.  

It began with a lovely encounter with the porcelain gods.  Nothing like a trip down morning sickness memory lane to remind me that 26 weeks into this pregnancy I can still, and in fact did manage to put the vom in vomit.  

After I managed to pull my puke brain together I headed out for a trip to the dentist bright-and-early.  Nothing like a 7:30 am dentist appointment to remind you how much you love life.  Now-for some of you...the trip to the dentist alone would be enough to start your day off on the "wrong foot."  But I, however, don't really mind the dentist.  That is-until  he informed me that I was in desperate need of a ROOT CANAL.  Yes. You read that right.  A root canal.  

*Here's a word to all the wise dentists out there...if you want to keep your 6 1/2 month pregnant patients happy...don't tell them they need a root canal...and after you don't tell them they need a root canal...don't tell them they have to have this less-than-pleasant procedure done with minimal drugs to avoid hurting the baby. Ugggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.  For those of you who don't know my dental history...I don't think I've ever so much as had a cavity in my entire life.  Seriously.  I've been pretty blessed in the pearly white department.  That is until that sweet little nugget inside of me started sucking all the calcium goodness out of my mouth and began hoarding it for himself.  

Ahem-Henry...if you're listening...last time I checked, you don't come out of the womb with teeth.

 Morning sickness...I get it.  Migraines...I got through them.  Bronchitis...well-we're sharing an immune system right?  But root canal?!?  The latest in my pregnancy ailments is just really downright rediculous.  So after my far-from-good-news at the dentist office...I made my way over to the BMV.

Ahhh yes, the lovely Bureau of Motor Vehicles.  Now I know I'm not alone in making the statement that the BMV could more appropriately be renamed: "The House of Crazies."  It has to be a universal truth that when you set foot in a BMV, you are bound to witness a new level of stupidity.  There can be anywhere from 2 to 47 people impatiently waiting in line to renew a license, get new plates, update their registrations or just act like a moron.  Is anyone else ever alarmed by the fact that the people you stand in line with at the BMV are allowed to operate motor vehicles?  Shouldn't it be a prerequisite that if you're allowed to drive a car, that you should also be capable of of providing two proper forms of personal identification?  Oh, please don't let me stay up on my BMV soapbox.  It's entirely too tense up here.  

Bottom line...I managed to get my hands on a new license.  And I've only been avoiding it since...shhhhhh...November.  Ooops.  Did I just admit to then entire online world that I lost my license back in November of 2008 and I'm just now getting around to replacing it?  Well, here's the thing.  To be honest...I haven't really needed my license since November.  I realize I shouldn't drive around without one...but the only other reason I even use my license is to occasionally indulge in an adult beverage.  And believe me when I say, there's been nothing "adult" about my liquid consupmtion over the past 6 months.  In fact, if you were to open the  Perks fridge right now, you'd find an assortment of milk, juice, gatorade, and Sprite Zero for when I'm feeling really risque'.

Moving right along with my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day...it was grey, rainy, icky and wet all day long. Indoor recess=Crazy kids=Crazier teachers. I won't even try to deny how weather dependent my mood is.  If it's sunny, I'm happy.  If it's raining, I'm typically not. And after the root canal and BMV drama, a rainy day seemed like the only appropirate weather for the day I was having and the mood I was in.  Well-you know what they say...

When it rains.  It pours.  So what did I come home to after my lovely day at school?  How about a broken garbage disposal which leaked nasty food particles and water all throughout the cupboard under our sink in the kitchen.  Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.  I was really hoping that I'd have get down on my hands and knees to scrub garbage disposal remnants off of the diswasher detergent and all the other household products kept under our sink just to rid our kitchen of the horrific smell long enough to make myself a pot of chicken noodle soup.  (It seemed like the only food depressing enough to consume after the day I'd had.)

And where was Daddy Perks this whole time? Ha. Ha. Ha.  Funny you should ask.  He happens to be in California this week on business.  In fact, right as I stumbled into my very own episode of "Kitchen Nightmares: My Garbage Disposal Hates Me," I got a call from my husband. Not only was he walking down Hollybood Boulevard tip toe-ing over the handprints of our world's most famous celebrities, but he'd just seen Fergie step out of a limo, somehow managed to score tickets to see a taping of the Jimmy Kimmel Show, AND although he didn't say it...I bet my bottom dollar that it wasn't raining where he was.  Judging by the tone of his voice, Daddy Perks was living large, and I on the other hand was counting down the minutes til I could put an end to this disastrous mishap of a day.

Sigh.  

Alright, I've subjected you to a 953 word description of my Wednesday woes.  And I think that's quite enough.  Here's to hoping your day went a little more smoothly than mine.  And if not-please join me in the bitter barn.  

**Disclaimor.   Henry-if you have been "listening," OR if you've somehow developed some type of in utero version of morse code that allows you to decipher what I'm typing...please know that I really don't mind that you hog all my calcium.  Really-go ahead-take it.  I'll make sure to start chugging down a few extra glasses of milk from now on.  After all-it does a body (and baby) good.