bad.day.

This is not a good day. I woke up late. The kids were late to school (again). I couldn't figure out what to wear. I dropped my iPod and it won't work. I missed two buses and couldn't find a cab. I had to walk to work and it started raining. I was late for a meeting. I was late sending an email out and people were getting anxious about it. And this was all before 9:00 a.m. I was crabby. I was mean to my dear hubby. We had a fight. I cried off all of my mascara. We made up and that's the only good part of my day so far. And it's only 12:30 p.m.

The kids have been late to school so often that A-Girl asked me yesterday if it would go on her "permanent record." How does she even know the term "permanent record?" And what in the world is a 7-year-old doing worrying about her permanent record? And, most importantly, why am I not making sure that they aren't late to school so that she doesn't need to be worrying about her permanent record? Just another great moment in parenting . . .