Tomorrow is only a day away

As I sit on my applesauce covered couch surrounded by the aftermath of RWW’s toy-nado (reference below), I am left with one conclusion - today has not been a productive day.  

I blame it primarily on the 3am wakeup call provided by my sick, but still impossibly happy 6 month old.  Thank God for that dimpled morning smile, otherwise I certainly wouldn't make it through days like today.  I was far too tired to brew myself a pot of coffee.  That’s usually T’s morning responsibility.  Alas, he is away, leaving me sad and coffee-less in the mornings.   RWW’s diet is usually relatively wholesome and well-balanced, but given the circumstances, goldfish and applesauce seemed like a reasonable choice for breakfast.  We did manage to get it together enough to make our 9:30a run.   

Upon arrival I discovered that we were rolling with a bad flat.  Thankfully, one of the other, more prepared mother runners supplied a pump so we could make it through.  It was a lackluster run, and I was screamed at for a good ¾’s of the way.   I seriously considered stopping by the grocery store on the way home, but who was I kidding?  A venti bold drip clearly won that battle.   We then proceeded home grocery-less and on an empty gas tank where, after a heated battle about naptime, I wasted away that sweet, undisturbed hour and a half browsing the web for a new diaper bag (??).  Stupid.  

We now return to the present, where I sit on that ever soiled couch.  How will this day end?  Will I turn it around, clean up the house, start dinner, and maybe get some tactiles out to work on counting?  Probably not.  Laying in the backyard, a little gardening, and some tee ball somehow sounds far more appealing.  Anyway, how could I say no to this?