Disclaimer: This blog is from Friday night, due to our power outage, I am just now able to post it!

OMG folks. I had the night from hell.

As in the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks kind of night.

And now I feel the need to blog about it before this migraine that happens to be the icing on the cake of this seventh circle of hades turns into an aneurysm and I never blog again.

And I have to do it now, since I'm riding the sugar high from my dinner of Chewy Lemon-Heads and Friends and it might wear off at any moment and I'll slip immediately into a sugar coma never to be soon again.

Ok, so it started off with two super duper crabby little girls after nap time today. So I plopped them down in front of Scooby Doo so I could get dinner on.

I was roasting a chicken in my Salad Master crock pot and felt very on top of things as far as the dinner situation goes.

And then I get a text message. From. Todd. The check I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for arrived in Omaha today, but somebody got the address wrong and so I had to physically drive to the Fedex store to pick it up.

The Fedex store is at 72nd and Q. I live at 72nd and 45 minutes north of that. Not to mention it was raining.

But I had loaded the kids in the car, with their light, fall jackets, already and I had about twenty host gifts to deliver, so I thought I'd do a whole two birds thing. Plus the girls weren't going to have to get out of the car.

Ok, so 4:30 we are off.

First delivery done.

Dinner in the car done.

Then I drive around panicked and crazy realizing my bank closes in thirty minutes and I still have to pick up the stinking Fedex check.

Finally I find the building, but by this time the rain has turned to ice, and there is no front of the building parking or windows to see into the parking lot. Do you know what that means? I have to be a good mom and take my children into the building with me.

(I feel like I should clarify that Zach had made plans to do a guys night, so I was alone with the girls and thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get these errands done....)

This poses all kinds of problems. Such as getting two kids out of the car in the freezing rain, juggling them both while trying not to trip over my ginormicon pregnant self, entering the building and then simultaneously standing in line while keeping a handle on two over-excited kidlets and then back to the car, more buckling of the car seats and then finally back to the drivers seat and a mad dash to the bank with a check that's only 1/3 of what it was supposed to be.

I awesomely got more lost. But managed to find the bank with five whole minutes to spare.

Two more deliveries and a 44 oz. Dr. Pepper later, I had to um. Pee. Oh, I forgot to mention my deliveries are basically on the far side of the world. As far West and South away from my original destination as possible. The girls are also hungry again by this point and we've not even met the half way point, so it was time for milkshakes. Never mind the fact that it had begun to snow, steadily. Like seriously, some snow.

I sound just like that super healthy Salad Master mom right now don't I?

I was bribing my children's behavior. Let's just get that out in the open.

One spilled milkshake, a few more deliveries and a whole lot of snow later we finally make it to Wal-Mart.

You see, Wal-Mart was an absolute necessity because I got a spontaneous show suddenly booked for tomorrow plus I needed some sides to go with that Chicken I had started roasting four hours earlier.

First things first, my boots leak.

My favorite boots. The boots I practically wear every single day, all winter long, leak. I noticed some seepage during the back and forths between my trunk and the front doors of my deliveries. But nothing too uncomfortable.

Until of course, I got out of the car at Wal-Mart. Let's ignore the fact for a second that Wal-Mart was unbelievably busy even during a snow storm, plus that it's 8:30 at night, plus during the intervening minutes between deliveries and our present location the girls had taken shoes, socks and coats off.

So there I stand, boots filling with ice cold snow, struggling to get foot apparel and meaningless, way under dressed outerwear on those antsy little monsters.

At this point, my patience might have been running a little thin, but more importantly I really had to pee. Really. Really had to pay.

Like pregnant emergency might pee my pants kind of pee.

So in we go to Wal-Mart, Scarlett slung over my shoulder and half dragging, half carrying Stella along side of me.

I by-pass the carts, because we are b-lining it to the bathroom and I don't technically need one yet. But of course they are cleaning the women's. Not the men's. Oh no. Only the women's. The door is blocked off and everything.

There I stand. Two children pulling me in either direction. The facilities unavailable and the sudden emotional urge to cry (Damn these pregnancy hormones!).

The cleaning man comes back to the door to retrieve his mop and I half shout, half demand, "How much longer are you going to be???"

He responds much calmer, "Oh, only two more minutes, we just have to mop."

And then he disappears around the corner to do his job.

I weigh the options. I could wait, although we all know, even my children, that it's going to be longer than 2 minutes. If I wait and then decided to go in, the floors will be wet and since I don't have a cart, my children will be free to roam around.... Plus I don't trust my planet-sized, unstable, off-balance, pregnant self.

The other option is to book it to the back of the store to the other bathroom and hope upon hopes it's open.

Obviously I chose option number two.

So back to the carts we run, and I throw the children into their seats. Ok, I wrestled them into their seats. Nothing is ever easy when you're on a mission.

So kids in the cart and my shoes squeaking and sloshing all the way back, I am hustling.

Please just stop and picture this for a moment. Oh, did I mention this was an Ugly Day for me? My hair was frizzed beyond belief, plus throw in what the snow and moisture had done to it over the past couple of hours, I had no make up on. None. Nada. Zero. Zip. I was in an over sized hoodie, which trust me, did absolutely nothing to flatter this third trimester physique, AND I was in bright purple pants. Zach calls them my Barney the Friendly Dinosaur pants, and lets be honest, they're just one step up from a moo moo. Let's also not forget that my boots are leaking like a sieve.

This crazy monstrosity is pushing two kids, who thankfully were much more put together than I was, in a crazed and panicked frenzy!

Ok, and if that isn't bad enough. In the middle of it all, I have a back spasm.

If you know anything about my back spasms, then you know sometimes they are crippling, but most of the time they are just super painful and awkward.

So, hunched over, biting through the pain, I Quasi-Moto-ed it the rest of the way and tossed the kidlets into the bathroom thankful the cleaning crew hadn't someone beat me to their next destination!

I'll leave the rest of the story out.

But safe to say, I didn't have to fake my water breaking to an entire store of late night shoppers, pretending to go into labor and explaining my way out of help.

Oh my.

The rest of the trip was a blur of cranky children and kissing toys goodbye, promising them we'd see them at Christmas, and fighting my way through aisles that you would have thought were giving away food for free!

It was a Friday night people, go out and get a life!

When finally we got to the twenty minute wait in line, Stella exclaims she has to go to the bathroom.

She just went. I made her go when I went. But no, finally we are in line, middle of the road, and it's her turn to do the potty dance.

Well, obviously I do what any loving mother would do. I cross her legs and force her to hold it until we make it through the chattiest cashier of all time and shove the entire cart into the bathroom. Which then of course she doesn't have to go anymore and I feel my brain explode bit by bit.

Back into the torrential downpour of snow, where I have to wipe the snow away with my sleeve because the forecast had said nothing about snow until after midnight and I haven't put a scraper in the darn thing yet.

It only took us thirty five minutes to drive home, what is usually a 10 minute drive thanks to the six inches of snow on the ground and near zero visibility, but we made it.

We made it home to a freezing house and a char-coaled chicken I had completely forgotten about. A chicken I was supposed to be back to in an hour later. Not six hours later.

Oh and did I mention, after finally getting the girls to sleep and sitting down to relax and catch up on Psych the power went out?

Oh yes it did.

Obviously, best night ever.

Now, please excuse me, while I get back to my dinner of Dots, while I sit and pout in complete darkness.