Oh what a night.

How did last night suck? Let me count the ways…

Disclaimer: I am absolutely aware of how incredibly lucky our family is. We have each other, relatively good health, a lovely home, and plenty to eat. What follows is simply griping after a series of ridiculous events.

1. The Husband arrived home last night, when he didn’t expect to get into town until today. That’s awesome except…he needed to be picked up from his truck at 10:00 in the dark, windy, cold night. And even that wouldn’t have been so bad except…I still have NO GLASSES and had to put in a contact that is now the wrong prescription, and I didn’t realize I couldn’t see anything until I was halfway out of the driveway.

2. The Husband, once we got him home, had one of those nights when he twitched all over the place about once every 15 seconds in his sleep. I couldn’t get him to stop, so I couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours.

3. The Boy was supposed to leave his college town around 9:00 last night. I finally fell asleep and didn’t realize he never got home until he called me at 1:00 to say, “Oops, an old friend stopped by the dorm at 9 and I’m just now leaving.” Nice.

4. I finally got back to sleep only to be awakened at 3:45 by another call from The Boy. He’d hit something on the highway and had an exploded tire. He sensibly called AAA rather than trying to change it himself on the highway, in the dark, in the rain. So he called back at 4:45 to say he was finally on his way. And then I woke up yet another time when he finally came in at 5:30.

5. And then, at 7:45, Middle Sister called. She’d spent the night at a friend’s house across town, had had another nausea/diarrhea attack overnight (first one in a couple of months, and of course it happened last night) and couldn’t drive herself home. So I didn’t get to sleep in, but rather got to wake up the husband so we could drive half an hour to rescue her and her car.

My interest in early prep for the Thanksgiving dinner has waned. And I have realized that having three college-age kids is not necessarily less exhausting than having three toddler/preschoolers. But I’ve also realized that no matter what a pain in the arse they are, I wouldn’t trade being their mama for anything.

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