One Of Those Days...

Have you ever had one of those days where you walk into the kitchen first thing after you get up and you see a large cricket jumping around in there, but because you are a total wuss about bugs your fearless (nearly) three year old cricket-catching son isn't yet awake, you are forced to grab a nearby wide-mouth mason jar and try to capture it until such a time as your young warrior can dispatch the thing for you, but instead it gets away by hopping rapidly around the kitchen forcing you to follow it around leapfrog style trying to cover it with the jar, only to have it seek shelter behind the chest freezer in a paper-towel tube that somehow found it's way back there and is now covered by dust bunnies, and which then reverberates loudly with the chirping of said cricket all day long?

Meanwhile, you run around all day long like a chicken with it's head cut off trying to get school supplies into sons backpack, clothes laid out, lunches made and myriad other duties tended to for your husband and son's first day back at school so you can finally haul your carcass off to bed?

But getting to sleep takes waaaay longer than usual because you lie awake feeling huge motherly guilt for purposefully deceiving your 6th grader son into believing that his first day back is really just a fun, orientation day (because he gets overly anxious about first days and other new things and you don't want him to worry away his last couple of days of his shorter-than-usual summer break)?

Then, as if that wasn't enough to mull over, your head is spinning because you've got a dozen very important details to remember over the next couple of days on top of first-day-of-school details, things that must be handled immediately because escrow and moving into your future home in a timely manner all hinges upon it...and then you finally manage to drift off to sleep only to be wakened an hour later when your youngest child wakes whimpering with growing pains in his shins (no doubt from jumping off of the dining room table top repeatedly throughout the day every time your back was turned)...and so you get back up to read up on what nutritional thing needs to be 'boned up' on in the near future and to massage his little shins, and then to finally think coherently enough to apply a heating pad so that he can go back to sleep?

And then finally drift back off to sleep once again only to be awakened by muscle cramps from being in an odd and extremely uncomfortable position (thanks to a third person in your bed) and you realize that you're thirsty and so you slide your legs over the side of the bed and lean towards your nightstand to flip on the lamp only to fumble around in the dark and to nearly knock said lamp off of nightstand (which you miraculously manage to catch and set to rights without making any noise to speak of and silently congratulate yourself for your prowess in such things)...and then you sit back up trying to remember why you needed the light on to begin with, and after an overly long and fog-brained middle-of-the-night thought process, finally determine that it was to get some water...which reminds you that it's excessively hot in the house, and so you get up and turn the A.C. on, and hobble back to bed, but upon arriving at your bedside decide to carry your youngest son back to his bed so that you might have a chance at at least one hour of shut-eye before it's time to get up and start another day, but stumble on a very sharp hot wheels toy lurking in the darkness of the hallway and have to limp back to bed?

And then you sit back down on the bed, and reach for that glass of water and hear a kind of scratchy sound on the floor beside your bed, and out of your periphery you notice something smallish ginormous and dark jump on your mattress between your legs, and you glance down and see that it's a very large bug, with a menacing walk, and you scramble backward across the bed with the agility of a gymnast (which you had no idea you were capable of because, you know, adrenaline gives you super-human strength), and you scream bloody murder at 3 am, which promptly wakens your husband from a dead sleep and he instantaneously jumps to his feet, performing an oscar-worthy Matrix move complete with a primal scream and Karate chop action while you laugh hysterically at his reaction, because just then you've looked down to find that it wasn't a deadly bull dog ant or whip scorpion like you had conjured up in your mind, but was simply that same cricket you chased around early that morning, the one that had gone strangely silent, coming to exact revenge after nearly losing a limb under the mouth of that jar earlier in the morning?

Oh.

Well I did.