Hi, I'm Dara!

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Here on LMS, I share my Whole30 tips, hiking and travel adventures with my family, motivation + life  lessons, and a few blogging biz tips.

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I Survived: March 1, 2011

After a particularly lousy night's sleep, I awoke at 5:55am to the sound of my oldest son screaming that he was awake. Awesome. Bleary eyed and super cranky, I stumble to his room in order to commence with the morning routine. Bladders are emptied, hands are washed, naked bodies are dressed, and we proceed to the kitchen table for breakfast. After a quick meal of Honey Nut Cheerios (him) and coffee (me), I attempt to check my email while Ash watches Disney Junior and plays with his trains. Then, I heard it. The sad whimpering of my 4-month old. I should mention that he recently made the transition to his own room. As such, he officially has his own sleeping schedule and stays in bed later than the rest of us. Unfortunately, on this morning, he was up a good hour or so before his normal time. Double awesome.

It's now about 6:15am and the three of us are awake and somewhat unhappy. Daddy would normally be up to assist in the craziness, but he's earned some much needed rest and is sleeping in a bit. Okay, not ideal, but I'm fine with it. I've made peace with the fact that we haven't had the smoothest morning, but the coffee is kickin' in and I finally start to find a rhythm.

I have an early doctor's appointment scheduled at 9:15, so the kids and I load up and make our way to the office. I am pleased to say that my little ducklings and I arrive safely and with a couple minutes to spare. Woohoo! Back on track!

While I we were waiting, I decided to put in a call to the nearest post office. The reason? We needed to get our passports processed for an upcoming trip. I'd been trying to call various offices around town in order to schedule an appointment (which they insist you have), but they rarely pick up the phone. Unfortunately, this morning was no different. I didn't sweat it though, because I figured I would just go there and schedule the darn thing in person.

Anyway, after about ten or 15 minutes, I hear my name. We begin to gather ourselves in order to make our way to one of the exam rooms when I realize it's the receptionist that has called out to me, NOT the nurse with the files. Puzzled, I walk up to her window.

"Dara?"

"Yes. Is something wrong?"

"Your appointment is for tomorrow."

"Um, are you sure? The woman I spoke with yesterday assured that my appointment was for Tuesday, March 1st."

"Yeah, your appointment is for tomorrow. The 2nd."

"Oh...okay. I'm gonna need to reschedule."

At this point, I was definitely frustrated, but not completely distraught. It was an annoying situation, but I was able to get another date for the same week. No real harm done. Post office, here we come! At least we'll be right on time for those passport applications, right?

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"Ma'am, you need an appointment to get your passport processed."

"Yes, I know, but I've been trying to call your office all morning and no one picked up the phone! I just thought if I came in person, I could get on the schedule for today."

"I can't do anything for you today."

"Really?" I say, looking around at the deserted lobby. "There's nothing you can do?"

"Sorry. There

is

a place that takes walk-ins and it's about a mile from here. There may be a wait, though."

"Oh...okay. I guess I'll try that place. Thank you, anyway."

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"Ma'am, you'll need to fill out the new passport application forms."

"What? Seriously? I just printed these off last week."

"We just received them today."

"Oh...okay. May I have three, please?"

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The rest of the afternoon passed with little incident, actually. I was ready to call it the worst

morning

ever because I assumed the worst was behind me. It was the rockiest of rocky starts, but as soon as we got home, both kids went down for a nap, so I thought I'd get a chance to relax and get a few things done.

Wrong again. Both boys woke up in rare form after about an hour (they usually sleep for at least two). So much for really getting things done. The littlest one won't let me put him down, so I put on a Thomas the Train dvd for the oldest and hope it keeps him occupied long enough for me to assuage the younger one. We try to find some sort of rhythm for about another hour or so, but by this time, it's about 4pm and I'd like to start making dinner. I'm planning on roasting a chicken, which is mostly hands-off, but I do need to prepare it for the oven. Miracle of miracles, the baby allows me to put him the swing, and I proceed to tackle the bird.

When the chicken is stuffed, seasoned, and sitting in the roasting pan I take it over to the stove. For whatever reason, I try to balance the roasting pan with one hand while simultaneously opening the oven door with the other. Usually, this works. On this particular day, I was not so fortunate. It happened so quickly, I'm not completely sure how to describe it. I think the pan bumped into a cabinet on the way down to the oven, which knocked it off balance. From there, I may have lost consciousness or something because the next thing I know, the bird is on the floor and I am laughing maniacally.

I texted my husband and told him we were doing takeout. Then, I attempted to open the nearest bottle of wine. After almost eight years of living with an oenophile, I still don't know how to work a corkscrew.

Check and mate, friends.

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