The baby woke up with poop in his pants and now there’s poop on my hand and while trying to clean the poop off at the sink, I stepped on a Lego and screamed out loud, and that made my big kid wake up, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At breakfast the baby got frosted Cheerios from his breakfast cereal box, and the big kid got marshmallows from her breakfast cereal box, but in my breakfast cereal box all I found was extra fiber.
I think I’ll move to Australia.
In the car on the way to work, a traffic light wasn’t working and I had to wait to turn.  A policeman came and let the cars moving the other directions go, but not me. 
I said I was being cheated. I yelled that I was being jipped.  I hollered, “If you don’t let me go through this light right now, I’m going to be late!” 
No one even answered.
I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At work, I liked Deb’s assignment better than mine.
During office time, my computer froze.  During conference time, my phone was too loud.  During break time, I didn’t have time to pee.  WHO DOESN’T HAVE TIME TO PEE?
I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
I could tell because my outfit wasn’t the best trend anymore.  Diane’s was obviously the first best trend and Kate had the second best trend and I wasn’t even the third best trend.
“I need to put you on a rack,” I muttered to my disheveled blouse. “I hope when I drop you off at Goodwill, someone buys you and takes you all the way to Australia.”
At lunch time, there were two cupcakes in Diane’s lunch box, and a gourmet chocolate bar in Kate’s lunch box, and Emily brought a cinnamon roll with caramel dripping on top.
Guess who decided they were too fat for dessert?
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
That’s what it was, because after work I went to the doctor’s office for a flu shot and it really hurt. “Come back next year and it might not hurt as bad,” the nurse said.
“Next year,” I said, “I’m moving to Australia.”
As soon as I got home I had to sprint from the front door to keep my kids from fighting and after breaking up the fight, the baby was still crying because he was shoved and my big kid was crying too because she was misunderstood and my babysitter was waiting to get paid and
While I went to the office to grab my checkbook my baby fell off a stool and my big kid drew on the wall and I tried desperately to call my husband to see when he was coming home…
But I think I called Australia.
My husband doesn’t want to pick up the phone anymore.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
There were skinny jeans that needed ironed and I hate skinnies. (and ironing).
There was kissing on TV, and
*sigh*
I miss kissing.
During my bath time, the kids snuck in.  During read-aloud time, I got peed on and had to shower again. And because my other pajamas got peed on, I had to wear my holey, stained pajamas.
I hate my holey, stained pajamas.
When I went to bed, my kids squeezed in and took the pillow I wanted to use. I had to get up because a nightlight burned out and my big kid bit her tongue.
The cat doesn’t want to sleep on the couch. She wants to sleep on me.
It’s been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
My husband says some days are like that.
Even in Australia.
🙂
Four things, friends: 

1) “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judith Viorst is my all-time favorite children’s book.  I remember my mother reading it to me, and I love reading it to my kids.  There’s something so satisfying about the relentlessly grumpy voice of Alexander. I’ve almost come to regard him as an alter-ego.
2) Also, my husband really is from Australia, but he denies wishing I wouldn’t call anymore. At least publicly.
3) Lastly, this classic book is now a movie.  Share this post, then read the book, go see the movie, and pass the classics along! 

4) Even though some days are like that, I wouldn’t trade my babies for the world. The snuggles outweigh the sniffles, and the affection outweighs the fits.  Some days are trying, but most of the time I feel like one of the luckiest women in the world. 

And on the days I don’t, I read my alter-ego’s book. In my grumpiest voice.  While eating chocolate. 🙂

Source: Amanda Deich