Get Me Some M&Ms, Stat!

I need a cocktail. A large cocktail with at least two kinds of alcohol in it.

And a couple of cigarettes.

Or possibly a few days at a spa.

Since none of these are options, I will be buying some M&Ms when I drag the kids to the grocery store this evening. And maybe some muzzles.

Hot Guy has been out of town since last Thursday. He will not be back until Sunday night. My parents are also out of town. Even though I have let the kids eat too much junk food and let Ironflower stay up too late (or possibly because of it), things have been okay. We even survived Mommy's 24 hour stomach virus on Saturday.

But today may have broken me. Today, I tried to get the new car inspected. I had until Friday. Oops. First we had to stop at my parents' so I could print out the new insurance cards because the originals have failed to come in the mail AND our printer is broken. Then we finally got to the inspection station.

The line wasn't bad. In less than 15 minutes, the dude was checking my documents. He said nothing about my printed insurance card.

The kiddos and I waited for twenty minutes. I was amazed at their wonderful behavior. Then a new dude called us over to the car. The car that FAILED inspection.

Would you like to know why?

Because of my printed insurance card. I said that the company could fax them the cards directly. Nope, not good enough. And they waved me off. I became psychotically mad, though quiet. Until both children started screaming. I pulled over. I angrily fixed their problems. I called the insurance company and bitched about needing my damned original cards. I stamped my feet.

When I resumed driving, I found out that I could not make a left out of the station. I had to turn right and the only way to head back the way I wanted was to get on the super-busy highway. Naturally some a-hole cut me off in the way that only Jersey drivers can and I started having a slight panic attack.

While doing my calming yoga breathing, both kids started yelling again.

I found the nearest park and let them run around, even though it was nearly lunchtime. And I had forgotten to put sunblock on them. And I was so, so tired.

Since getting home all we have done is watch T.V. and nap. I feel like such a lazy mother.

And somehow I have to pull it together to get them to the grocery store and to clean my house in anticipation of the playdate I am hosting tomorrow morning.

How bad would it be if I just threw one of those teeny bottles of vodka into my grocery cart? Would three or four shots really hurt the baby?

(PS: Single parents, you amaze me.)