Sunday, May 15, 2011

Beware of Saturday the 14th

For who knows how long there has been a superstitious belief that Friday the 13th is a day of bad luck. Well I am here to put those fears to rest. The real day to worry about is Saturday the 14th. It's true! When I was a young preteen my friend and I made the discovery that Saturday the 14th really was a day not to be messed with. And that still holds true. Now, I'm not a superstitious person, but I still find it odd that most of my Saturdays the 14th are filled with incidents of bad luck.

This Saturday the 14th proved no differently.



The day started like any other. I noticed it looked stormy outside, but within an hour it started to clear and I had hopes of enjoying a lovely spring day. I woke up the children and found the baby to be soaked. That's OK though because his diapers sometimes have a hard time making it through the night. I cleaned him up and got everybody breakfast. Then I went to change my twins. They smelled of pee. I discovered the problem. The cloth diaper they were wearing was not packed for overnight. I was going to just change their clothes and call it good, but they smelled so bad I threw them in the tub to take a quick shower. Then I put there clothes in the sink to soak. One twin didn't like the shower so I got him out quickly. The other wanted to stay in. I went to check on the twin that got out. He had peed on my bed. I guess I will be changing my sheets today.

As I pulled the sheets off, and went to throw them downstairs, I stepped in a puddle of water. My immediate thought was the twin in the shower, but he was not the culprit. The truly guilty one was the overflowing sink which I had left on, in order to soak the boys clothes. The bathroom was flooded beyond words. I grabbed some towels. I began to get a little frustrated at this point.

I went downstairs and threw the bedding in the washer and went to clear off my memory card. We were going on a fun outing and I wanted to be sure I had room enough for all the new pictures. While that was a joke and a half. My husband just switched computers and I had to do a little song and dance to finally get the pictures switched over. Then I heard a crash. The baby had fallen off the bed.



I went upstairs to make sure he was OK and sat him back on the bed, towards the middle. Then went downstairs to complete some more tasks before it was time for us to go on our outing. Well I found the boys' room had reaped some of the flooding from the sink upstairs. There was a nice sized puddle that I had to clean up. And then I heard another crash. The baby had fallen off the bed again. I went upstairs and sat him on the floor this time.

Finally my dad come to pick us up and take us to a local grocery store that was holding a "Pirate Party", in celebration of the new "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie. See, my husband was at work all weekend so my Dad came to help me get there all in one piece. I was a little frazzled and apologized for not being ready. I started to put the baby in his car seat when I noticed some red stuff all over his cute pirate outfit. What had I given him that could've gotten his outfit all dirty like this. Then I realized it was blood. So I cleaned up the outfit, found the cut on his finger and cleaned that up as well. Then I went to get the twins shoes and came back to find that they both had pooped. I changed their diapers and out the door we went.



That bright sunny day, I was telling you about, had now turned back into a dark and cloudy one, literally. There was thunder and lightening the whole drive to the grocery store-- which was in a different city. One lightening bolt came so close I swear it hit the freeway.

We finally arrived at the "Pirate Party". We had just gotten everyone out of the car when a big gust of wind came up and wreaked havoc on all the cabanas and blow up toys they had set up. One man walked by and said, "We're shutting down!"

Well my mom got the boys some tattoos. I took a picture of my nephew by the pirate ship, and someone brought me a plate of food. My mom asked if I wanted to get a picture of the boys by the Pirate ship I said sure, but in doing so I lost my uneaten plate of food to another gust of wind. The employees were anxious to get the Pirate ship down, so with all the fuss, to get the boys to look and to not throw fits, I didn't get a very good picture.

We migrated inside and my mom helped me clean up my shirt-- which was now stained with blood from the baby and some chocolate from the Popsicle the twins had. She apologized for the mess with the "Pirate Party" and for not telling me to come sooner. I told her, "It's just been that kind of a day. This just goes along with the rest of it."

After sharing my woes with someone, and enjoying a nice lunch, the rest of the day didn't seem quite so bad. Even when the baby pooped up his back and the weather decided to be bipolar it still didn't get me down like it did earlier. It's funny how the bad seems so horrible when I'm going through it, but as soon as its over I can't help but think, "That was it? It's over? Why did I get so upset?"