High Expectations

I went to bed last night with high expectations for today. I knew that the kids and the husband would not have school. The closings had already been posted. We would eat breakfast, try some of the crafts I saw on another blog, work on our puzzle, maybe squeeze in some Wii bowling. Just have a cozy day at home. I went to sleep with warm fuzzies.
Then I woke up. My son was standing naked by my bed.
"I get in shower Mom. Mom get up, I get in shower"
This means one thing. He leaked through his super-sized, night-time diaper. Again. Wet sheets. More laundry. Urine smell.
Not too bad. I can totally do this. I am used to changing his bedsheets 4-5 times a week. He is totally potty trained, but can't seem to get the night thing down.
Moving on to breakfast. Still in a pretty good mood. Warm fuzzies holding. It is snowing, the big flakes that are all stuck together. Cozy.
Since it is a 'special' day the kiddos want blueberry pancakes. Totally on it.
Shit. I need a new pan. The one I have is old and warped and sits funny on the burner. The pancakes are sticking. The kids are whining. My warm fuzzies are melting.
Still moving forward. Although by now I am irritated. Fucking pan.
I then make the mistake of mentioning the craft idea to the kids. Before I am prepared to start it. More whining, more arguing, more of me wanting to go back to bed and try again later.
Wait. I am genius. Bright idea. There is snow. Send the kids and the husband outside into the snow. Much better.
Watch the kids through the window and wonder why I always feel so crappy. Think happy thoughts. Better. Somewhat.
Wash urine soaked sheets, re-make the bed. Clean up the house. Ready the craft.
The kids come in from the snow. The craft is no-longer on their list of things to do.
Whatever.
Try to work puzzle with the husband, but life calls. More laundry, wet snow-suit clean up, blah, blah, blah.
Warm fuzzies gone. Secretly hoping everyone has school again tomorrow.
WTF. What is the screaming coming from the basement all about? Did someone cut off an arm? Oh, no. Miles didn't get to bowl first. Screaming, drooling, flapping. Restart game. Miles first.
Warm fuzzies are now cold pricklies. Shit. Is it bed time yet?
It is. The kids are bathed. Thank you husband.
They sit and have their snack and talk about how great the snow is. Wondering if they will have school tomorrow. I hope not. The warm fuzzies are coming back. Slowly.