Today was not a great day. It started with me finding a large chunk of Noah's hair on the couch. It seems his big sister decided he needed a haircut. When I asked her why she would cut his hair, she matter of factly stated "He had too much hair." HAD would be the key word. I know that one day this story will be funny. Today is not the day.
Both kids were acting like they felt crummy, so instead of shipping them off to school while I cleaned the house and ran errands, we all stayed home (and accomplished nothing.) At around 9 a.m., the DVR in the living room caught on fire. Yes, I said our DVR caught on fire. Like, as in smoke filled the room fire. Like, Hope started screaming fire. Like, I unplugged it quickly, swooped my kids up and out of the room, aired out the house for an hour, fire. Like my house still smells like plastic, fire.
Then, John calls and tells me he can't come home tonight. He has to stay and work an extra day in NWA. Try explaining to a 4 year old who counts down the days till her daddy gets home why he is not home on Thursday like he promised. I know it's not his fault, and I am truly not angry at him, or his job, but it broke my heart. And his. And hers. Especially hers.
Not a great day. But we survived. And we have much to be grateful for.