So Glad I Went to College for This

Today's message is brought to you by the letter R.

R is for RANT.

(This is what years of Sesame Street will do to one's vocabulary.)

Today is one of those days.

It started last night when the new dog decided it was more comforting for her to wait out the hurricane remnants, here in the Caribbean, by pacing in the bedroom.  When she was finally banished to the enclosed terrace in the wee hours of the morning, she managed to squeeze her large self through the iron bars and escape into the back yard.  That would not have been much of a problem except that she then escaped to the front yard where she could, if she tried hard enough, make it to the street endangered by any number of crazed drivers or not-so-friendly dogs.  So, the neighbors got a peep show as I ran from the terrace back into the house for my keys, back to the terrace to open the gate to the back yard, then to the front yard...yelling for the damn dog...in my PJ's...in the rain.

Wet dog returned to the terrace.

My first attempt to shower...foiled by the late hour and three hungry children (the nerve of them!).

Children fed and kitchen cleaned.

The oldest wee one declared that he was off to read.  I requested that they all get dressed first.

An hour long tantrum ensued.  How could I possibly expect this child to get ready for the day?  (The nerve of me!)

The nanny arrived (more on that later, but yes, our new life contains a variety of household help) and I realized I no longer had the extra master house key.

Frantic searching, under beds, under rugs, in drawers.

The wee one's tantrum continued.

The baby needed new pants.

The wet dog needed drying.

My second attempt to shower...foiled by my attempt to talk with the nanny about the day's plan, but my still-limited knowledge of Spanish makes most conversations quite lengthy (and surely painful for others to hear).

The wee ones were clamoring to "go somepwace" as, even though we missed the brunt of Hurricane Irene, all of our weekly activities have been cancelled and the boys are going stir crazy.

More searching for the damn key.

A conversation with the nanny as she discovered the culprit of our ruined clothes as of late...Looks like we need a new washing machine.  Let the fun begin with coordinating the repair through the Husband's employer.

Key recovered.  A sigh of relief.

Finally, a shower.

Numerous interventions on behalf of the wee ones needed throughout the morning, as there remains a communication gap with the nanny.  (In all fairness, this is just as much my shortcoming, as my Type-A always-in-control self quickly tires of hearing the repeated requests even if not directed at me.)

Long story short (well, shorter)...I have yet to accomplish one damn thing today.  And, it's noon.

I'm frustrated.  I'm discouraged.  I'm wondering why in the hell I went to university, as I can't see that any learned skills are currently in use.  Even my logical approach doesn't count because there is no logic when dealing with toddlers.

How can I argue with a three year old when he approaches me saying, "Mommy, (insert numerous and multiple variations of questions from the mind of a constantly-thinking-and-talking toddler)" and even though I respond, "Please go ask Juana" he continues, undeterred, with his repeated question?

Right now, my former knowledgeable, composed, competent, results-oriented self is so far removed that I barely remember she ever existed.

It's a good thing I can easily buy good coffee and rum...