Diary of a Bad Mommy (Volume 9)

Well, I've done it again. I've failed these poor children for the thousandth time. And I've only had the oldest one for 5 years.

Today, we got up early. Time change, remember? Yeah, I did remember that. Not last night, but this morning, when every clock was wrong, I clued in pretty quickly.

Anyway, we had tons of time to lounge before we went to Target to get a birthday present for our neighbor, who is turning 3. We spent a good 45 minutes in the toy aisle before finally choosing a gorgeous Fancy Nancy feather purse and sunglasses.

We came home, wrapped the present, fought over who would draw on the card, and got ready to go. We sat and waited and waited for 2:30 to come. That extra hour sure does make the morning drag on.

Finally, 2:15 came. I loaded the girls in the car and we drove to the park, where the birthday party was taking place. I checked the time on the invitation one last time before we left. Yep, 2:30-5:30. Got the time change factored in. We are good to go.

When we got to the park, we saw the bounce house that had been mentioned on the invitation. Only it wasn't a princess bounce house, as stated. This one was a sports bounce house. Oh well, the kids won't care that the bounce house guy brought the wrong one.

We walk up to the pavilion where all the people are and I see tons of pizza boxes. Hmmmm, K mentioned that they would have finger foods...I didn't know they were buying pizza for everyone. Shouldn't have fed the kids!

We walked around, smiling at everyone, looking for a place to put the present. Avery asks "Where is Andrew?" He's her age and the party honoree's older brother. I didn't see him. Or the little girl. Or her parents. Or anyone who looked vaguely familiar.

One man asked "Can we help you guys find someone?" I said the little girls' name. He says "No, that's not us...this is ____'s party."

I am a bit confused. Did I get the time wrong? No, I checked that before we left. Maybe the place? Yeah, that must be it. Wrong park. We have two or three in our neighborhood, so it could have been another one.

I tell the girls we need to run home and get the invitation. Avery immediately panics, as if she senses that Mommy has made a terrible mistake and that, if we do go home, we'll have to stay there. "Mom, just call K and ask her where it is."

"Honey, I can't call her. She's not at home...they are at the party. We'll just run home and check. We won't miss a thing."

She tries another tactic. "Mom, let's just drive to all the parks we know and see if they are there."
"No, Honey. Then we'll be really late. We're running home."

So, we head home. Avery is bouncing in her seat, begging me not to go home. She knows I've screwed up and she's desperate for me to keep driving.

We get home and I tell the girls they can wait in the car while I run in. I run into the bathroom, grab the invitation off the counter and read it. My heart sinks. Sunday, November 9, it says.

Shit. Shit. Wrong day. I didn't even have to put on makeup today? Shit. I didn't have to go to Target and spend my last bit of cash on a present? Shit. I have to tell the girls there's no party? SHIT.

"Girls, come inside." The wailing begins. Reese has no clue why they have to come inside, but she knows she doesn't like it. Avery is panicked. "Mom, what are we doing? Why do we have to come in?"

"The party is next Sunday. I got the dates wrong."

The wailing turns to gut-wrenching sobs and Reese, by this point, has joined in. Reese keeps saying "But I have a present!" as if she's been mistakenly banned from the party because she didn't have a gift. "But I have a present," she keeps moaning, through tears. Here she is, showing her dad the present, begging him to save them from their wretched mother.

Sadly, Dad won't accept the present. He also won't answer them because he's too busy trying to hold back laughter. The laughter is, like their anger, directed at me. Because I'm a loser. And that's funny.

It went on for a good four or five minutes. They weren't even speaking to me at this point, just begging their dad to save them from this devastating situation. When I tried to apologize, it made things worse. The sound of my voice apparently reminds them that I exist. Which, to them, at this moment, sucks.

I know it doesn't help that I keep taking pictures of them as they cry, but really, how much worse could I have made it? I had already ruined their entire day. Might as well get a blog out of it, right?