it's been one of those days.

the kind where the two-year-old wakes every up by doing laps around your bed and yelling "wake up mommy! wake up daddy! WAKE UP BABY!!!"

the kind where she pulls herself up onto the bed by grabbing a fistful of her daddy's leg hair as a handle.

the kind where it begins to sheet rain just when you're ready to go mow the lawn.

the kind where you get to pizza hut, anticipating one of your family's very favorite things ever, for which you have been waiting four months (as you only go when you have to get new clothes for the little people, as a sort of bribe for everyone to go through with the shopping), and are told that they are no longer serving a buffet on saturdays. the kind where you have to explain this to the two-year-old who has been hopping up and down saying "yummy yummy pee-zuh! yummy yummy pee-zuh! pee-zuh! pee-zuh! yummy yummy pee-zuh!"

the kind where you purposefully left the house at lunchtime for several hours of shopping because you were planning on aforesaid pizza hut buffet, and you really can't justify spending a lot of money on lunch somewhere more upscale.

the kind where the two-year-old cries the entire way home after the much-curtailed shopping trip, which did not extend to getting your husband basketball shoes to replace the ones which are currently losing pieces of themselves every time he plays basketball.

the kind where once you get home, the two-year-old refuses to do anything but sit in her high chair sucking her thumb with her blanket on the tray in front of her. she will not lie down with the blanket on her bed or let it go to eat her lunch...nay, she will simply sit in the high chair with it and scream loudly if anyone attempts her removal.

the kind where your two-year-old refuses to nap, period, and your newborn condescends to nap until you fall asleep.

the kind where the people in front of you in line at wal-mart pay in exact change, very leisurely, for the biggest cartload of groceries you've ever seen in your life, after repeatedly double-checking the cashier's scanning of each item.

the kind where your children soil their diapers in tandem.

the kind where you spend forty-five minutes feeding your infant, who then does a herculean imitation of mt. vesuvius and vomits spectacularly all over both of you. so spectacularly, in fact, that it runs back down into her eyes.

the kind where after washing aforesaid baby, the floor, and your clothes, she begins crying for more nourishment.

the kind where, at the end of the day, you take comfort in the fact that at least you saved the pizza hut money, you did get the girls some winter clothes, you were forced to do a great deal of laundry, thereby saving yourself the effort on monday, and that you now relish, more than ever, the fact that you have a wonderful husband who was around during the entire gruesome day so that the two of you could tag-team it. and the two of you also made pesto-mozzarella-tomato panini on sourdough for dinner, which almost made up for the entire rest of the day. and in the fact that it's over, you're temporarily off-duty (until the next feeding), and you have a large carton of fudge tracks slow-churned Edy's ice cream in the freezer and a few good movies from the library. you realize that in the grand scheme of things a day like this is probably natural, since you enjoyed a wonderful relaxing date with your sweetie last night, so a yucky day today sort of evens it out for the weekend.

and in the fact that you must now end this post because your wonderful husband just started making watermelon smoothies for the two of you to enjoy. bless that man.