And it's only Monday ... [deep breath]

Days that start with tantrums and end in a big, poopy mess are never good. And it's worse when it's a Monday.

Monday used to be the best day of the week for us. I'm usually well-rested from the weekend. Our routine is pretty low key and includes the library for story time, a stop outside the fire department to gawk at the trucks, trash truck stalking and sometimes a little outside time before lunch. After today, I'm going to have to rethink our routine. The kids had a fun morning playing together before we left and I have the pictures to prove it. I answered some emails and made and took some phone calls, including one from my mother-in-law who Danny accidentally dialed on my cell phone. I heard him chattering away on the coach about the wall being orange but thought nothing of it until the phone rang and it was MIL calling back. But it all went downhill from there.

Several friends have told me today that they banned the library until their kids were older. From now on, I'm just going to just order my books from the online catalog and pick them up WITHOUT the children. We had a good run before Fiona got too mobile and Danny lost interest in story time, except for the bubbles and the hand stamp at the end, of course

Nowadays, Danny zeroes in on any little boy who matches his energy level and proceeds to cause a ruckus. Today was no different. First he takes off his shoes and jacket, dumps them on the floor, runs off for the children's section. Then he ran around with Jack, his new-found partner in crime, during story time to go "hide." At least his mother's exasperation level matched mine as I watched her manage a 7-month-old baby and then literally catch Jack by his shirt tails. After story time, he bolts for the children's section again to do puzzles. I inform him of my plan to look for and check out the books while he finishes his puzzle (because keeping mentally unstable 3 year olds abreast of the plans is supposed to help prevent meltdowns, right? RIGHT???) Meanwhile, I'm trying to keep Fiona from single-handedly clearing every book from the shelves. (On the bright side, I steer her toward the board books and she brings me some for the bag.)  Books checked out, I return for the barefooted, jacketless child finishing up his puzzle. He comes willingly. So far, so good.

Then he flips out because he now suddenly wants to check out the books. He runs from me. I try to catch him and lead him out, still barefooted and jacketless because there seems to be no way for me to wrestle jacket and shoes on a tantruming 3 year old while managing Fiona and a 15 pound bag of books. He then runs in the other direction, screaming. I hoist him up (eight months pregnant here, by the way) around the waist while still holding Fiona and the bag of books. He slides down so that my arm is now around his neck (think unintentional choke hold ... they should have Razzies for worst mother of the year, don't you think?). Outside, I manage to put him down, grab his hand and get him to the van where I inform him that Dennis, his beloved stuffed monkey, is going to be very disappointed in his behavior and will be taking an extended vacation in mommy's closet upon our return home.

As for the poopy mess, I'll spare you the stinky details and just say it involved poop on multiple surfaces and body parts and the disposing of his favorite pair of pants. The rest of his "guys" (the family of stuffed animals that I'm pretty sure he wishes were his real family instead of us right now) are now vacationing with Dennis in mommy's closet. Luckily, I was not involved in the clean up of this one which took place in our bathtub. Unfortunately, I'm now rethinking that bath I had planned for myself (shudder) ... which I really could have used after essentially carrying about 75 pounds (yes, I'm counting the one in my belly, too) of children and books today.

Needless to say, the library is off limits for a while. Maybe we'll return in the fall when Danny is at preschool.