Okay Mom, you can cry now

What a terrible, crappy day.
I am still super sick (and can't take a dang thing except Tylenol-um, not cutting it).
Took an hour to get to school this morning due to traffic.
Dropped kids off, picked Remi up, drove back home ate lunch, picked Bella up, then time for hospital visit.
3hrs later.
Stopped at McDonald's for dinner, stuck in traffic again, Bella is yelling in the backseat "I have to pee." "I have to pee really bad."
Pulled into driveway only to find Bella and car seat soaked from pee. FREAKING lovely.
My head is splitting open.
Bella is now crying that she misses her Daddy, while Remi is telling her that Daddy is never home. Which causes even more crying.

As I'm cleaning the car out, Remi asks what is the matter with me.
And I just ask him if I can cry yet?
He tells me not now, later.
Okay, I laugh.

Inside, I tell Bella no TV. We need to eat our now cold, super nutritious dinner. She screams and cries through the whole thing, snot flying everywhere. The dogs are barking at the cats out the door, Remi is now crying because he is so tired.
My head is beyond splitting open!

Then Remi looks over at me and says. "Okay Mom, you can cry now."

Which of course starts out as a laugh, cough, snot, then turns into a cry, but my head is killing me so bad, that even crying hurts.

Yelloooww Dog

Remington's on his yellow dog kick again. This first started around Christmas time with him begging for a new dog, a yellow dog. I would gently brush it off and he seemed to forget it pretty easily.
The last couple of days it's started again. Tonight after bath he is reading a book about dogs and there was a yellow lab pictured and he mentioned again how much he really wants a yellow dog.

Thinking that down the road a trip to the pound would work for all. I told him that yes he may have a yellow dog when our three dogs are gone.
He got so excited, jumping around and hollering at Sis that they were getting a yellow dog. I let this go on for a few minutes, then reminded him that I did say AFTER the other dogs were gone, so that meant "his dog, Diablo" wouldn't be around anymore.

Without skipping a beat, he said fine. When Missy and Minnie are gone, Diablo and I will go to the pound and look for our next yellow dog.

Diablo is ten and has been the worst, most beloved dog in the world. I was just teary eyed this morning thinking about what I'd ever do without my big D.
I forget how attached the whole family is to that dog, especially Remington.