It's not starting out too well.
I was in the deepest, most delicious sleep when someone knocked on the door and I sprung back to reality.
"Mom, are you driving me to McDonald's?" (that's where the running club meets on Saturday mornings at 8am for their run, not to eat.)
I looked at the clock. 7:52am. Man, I overslept. How lucky of me! Okay, jump out of bed, heart racing, throw some shoes on and a jacket, head down the stairs, to find. . .
cat vomit in the livingroom. Smeared slightly, because someone else didn't see it before stepping in it. Lovely.
Oh, and there's cat poop in the kitchen.
Yes, and Conor has thrown his bowl of soggy cereal (he drank the milk out of the bowl, but didn't eat the actual cereal) from his high chair into the family room where it's all over the carpet.
Do you remember how I feel about milk? On the carpet, on my hands, the smell of milky cereal?
What the heck kind of weekend is this going to be, anyway? I feel assaulted! Another delightful chapter in the life of a mom.