Mommy's Moment: We Interrupt These Pictures...

It's almost 2:00. I sat down last night to plan my day. If I have a plan my day goes smoother and I get more accomplished. At least that's the hope. Well, like I said, it's 2:00 and I have yet to accomplish ONE thing off of my list. But, I've been busy. Busy with things I had no intention of dealing with today. What has preoccupied my time? The unexpected.

The container of colored word tiles that Hannah and Grant gravitate to like kids in a candy shop was lying empty on my floor.

"Hannah, where are the color word tiles?" I ask because they are NO WHERE to be seen.
"Under the bed," she answers with a little grin.

Not a huge deal...except if you're pregnant and they are laying the farthest from reach.

"Hannah, you have to get under there and pick every bit of those up."
"But Mommy, I'll get stuck.." and then big tears.
"You should have thought about that when you and Grant threw them down there."

A brilliant idea pops into my mind. I give her our extended feather duster pole to drag them out.
I go to change Grant's diaper. Screams proceed a frustrated girl..."I can't get them out! Grant did it too. He needs to help."

We rejoin the dramatic child. I lay on my side trying to use the feather duster pole. We get a few out. Grant eagerly places them back into the container. This method will take light years. Soon, Hannah thankfully discovers a new found excitement for this game. She manages to shimmy her body under the bed. Out come the colored tiles...along with other treasures that have been lost under the bed. Looks like she and Grant have it under control. I go to dry my hair. Then...a shrilling, shrieking, scream exits from beneath the bed. Somehow Hannah manages to think she is stuck. I persuade her to throw out some colored tiles while she lays there. Might as well make as best use of this situation as we can. But clearly, there's an easy way out. She refuses to agree. So I then try to drag her as I lay on my side. She bumps her head. That's it. I lost any leverage I had. Any words of advice or attempts to pull her out have vanished. She's in this thing alone. So, what's a mom to do? Take a picture of course!
Minutes roll by...time is passing...that kitchen floor still waiting to be mopped, those shirts of John's waiting to be ironed, my bed waiting to be made and what are we doing...laying on the floor, one serving as a hostage negotiator, pleading with an over emotional child to come out from under the bed, the other, a hostage to an apparently relentless bed who refuses to let her out of its evil grips. And then there's Grant, who sits by my side through it all.

Soon, I've had enough. Enter the surprise attack. I come from behind. Grab her legs (in white tights might I add that she was determined to wear today) and pull. She shrieks, yells, cries but lo and behold, the attack proved successful. She has been pulled from the bed's tenacious grips. I cuddle her as though we've survived a firey crash. All is well. And it's already time for lunch.

I have also managed to stay on the phone talking to the insurance company regarding our outrageous deductible as well as trying to get in touch with the car place who has yet to send us our information needed to get our car tag which we were supposed to have on our van yesterday.

And, here I sit, blogging as they nap while my floors still need swept and mopped, John's shirts still need ironed, my bed sits unmade, and there are still colored tiles sitting beneath my bed. Plans are good but you can never plan for the unexpected. And I've found the best way to roll with the unexpected is to just laugh otherwise I'd be pulling my hair out.