*Disclaimer*: I published this post before I'd really watched the news today. The title is in reference to a children's book. Of course, in light of all the real tragedies in the world today (earthquakes, tsunamis), I know my own little day is nothing in comparison. Please don't take it too seriously. And my heart goes out to all those really suffering today.
File this under days like these...Yesterday (especially the evening) was one frustrating moment after another. First of all it was a frankly weird work day (driving to a lesson for a lady who it turns out is on maternity leave) and nearly not having any voice anyway (lingering sinus crud after my cold). Then picking up Juliette and doing the grocery shopping. Have you tried not using your voice with a toddler? Not possible when you must constantly say things to distract her from a tantrum, like ooh, look at that baby over there or, please don't unhook the strap on the shopping cart 'cause you might fall out.
And there were those three ear-piercing scream-fests she had when she didn't get her way. Good news is I'm starting to feel less embarassed when it's my child who's screaming because really, what can I do? There are no "corners" to put her in. I sometimes turn the shopping cart around and pretend like I'm going to walk away, but of course, I can't. I tell her everyone's looking at her and that seems to make her cry more. I blow in her tear-stained face and she just gets annoyed. Sigh.
Once at home she wanted to try out her new potty seat that fits on the real toilet. But once she was on it she started touching everything she shouldn't, like the toilet brush and the toilet paper dispenser on the wall. Breathe in, breathe out. No pee pee this time but success is counted in the time she actually sits on the thing.
And the cat. A colleague recently told me that animals (including humans) are affected by the dusk time of day. We're a bit hyper and jumpy. Catki is living proof of that. After assaulting us when we got in for food, he promptly threw it up on the bamboo type rug. Then started meowing/yowling for more food. Again, I had to use my non-voice to try to shoo him away and allow me to cook in the kitchen. Seems like he wanted food three times in two hours or we couldn't get any peace. I felt like showing him the pointy end of the knife I was using to cut the potatoes. Rest assured, I didn't.
Seems like my bad day continued some today with me having to get a bit assertive with the repair technician on the phone about a repair that should have been done back in 2009 on Juliette's window.
Him: But you should have informed the agency when you moved in.
Me: But we didn't notice it in we moved in. (Note: we only discovered a few months after moving in.)
Him: But you could just be saying that.
Me: Sure, but I'm not just saying that.
Lucky for me I'm learning to talk back to snippy French people. And I think my "sexy" cold voice make me more convincing.
Better luck tomorrow.