I'm not sure exactly what happened. Cheery Eden suddenly melted into a tantrum puddle at every turn. My new time solution of 6 hours of sleep a night caught up with me, and I carried around a knot of tension in my chest all day. I couldn't find any sippy cups for ms. frantic-screaming-pants. I packed snacks that were apparently so tiny that Silas had to scavenge in Eden's car seat for dropped peanuts and try to grab cheerios out of her fist. I dumped Eden into the back of a grocery cart nearly upside down after she jerked her hand away from mine and sat squarely in the busy parking lot again, and then pushed the cart with her like that, screaming, all the way across the parking lot. I left Silas and Eden in the bathtub just long enough for Eden to empty my entire bottle of soap in the water. Then I tried to rinse her in steps, ending with holding just her head over the tub (salon style?) to rinse out the shampoo. More screaming. On and on.
Not the best day.
Fortunately, there was one spark of grace around 5PM, which is a crucial time for grace. As we were driving home with plans for ham sandwiches for dinner if there was bread in the house, Silas, who can secretly draw magical people with toes and eyebrows but who will only draw "race tracks" (wavy lines) or "my imagination" (blotches of color) suddenly said "a CHICKEN!" and held up the magnet doodle board.
He proceeded to add the beak and legs (lines at the bottom) because even though it's sitting down, a chicken has legs. And the dot to the right is where the chicken's food comes from.
Is it a chicken on a farm, Silas?
No. It's a chicken in Florida.
So that made me feel a little bit better.
Though maybe only a little since it's 7:40 and I am in my pajamas, teeth brushed, face washed, ready to go to sleep. At least tomorrow morning will be a new day and we'll be seated at Denny's first thing eating free Grand Slams.
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