Thursday, January 13, 2011

Sequence of Events

This is the true story of a day in my life:

Baby is fussy.
Pick her up and walk her around house on my hip.
Baby projectile vomits in the hallway.
All over the red rug.
All over my one of my boots.
And all over herself.
I go in the kitchen to get a towel.
Baby throws up more all over floor.
I set wipe her down and clean up the kitchen floor so no one slips and falls on baby vomit.
I take her in living room.
Strip her down to her onesie and sit her on the floor.
Find Lana sitting on the heater vent in hallway rubbing red rug with her hand.
Hear her say "Mommy the carpet is wet."
Pick Lana up and wash her hands.
Baby is crying.
Pick her up and set her in front of toys.
Scrub red rug.
Take baby up for bath.
Set her in her room to get towels.
Smell something foul.
Think she must of pooped.
See it.
Yes, poop.
All over her leg.
Her foot.
And the rug.
Pick up baby and set her bathtub still dressed in onesie.
Meet kids at the door of her room and caution them to stay out.
Because now I see poop everywhere.
On blankets.
On toys.
On rug.
Pick up baby and get clothes and diaper off.
Run bath.
Hold baby bum under running water.
Rinse her well.
Set her back down in tub.
Naked this time.
Run bath and give her toys.
Throw poop things in sink or laundry pile.
Begin scrubbing rug.
See baby fussing from where I'm scrubbing.
Step closer to her to console her.
See poop floating all around her.
Think about running away from home.
Sum up courage and stick hand in poo water to open drain.
Pick up baby while tub drains and use one hand to rinse her with a cup.
When tub is drained, quick bath to baby to get poop off.
Clean baby goes in crib.
She yells while I scrub the rug.
Rug clean to satisfaction.
Dress baby.
Look at clock.
It is 8:57 A.M.
Think it is going to be a long day.
Head downstairs.
Discover dog drank my coffee.
Cry.
Think about running away.
Put on some big girl panties.
Make new cup of coffee.
Fix breakfast for the kids.
Sit with coffee.
And write "Sequence of events" email to husband.
Because sometimes you have to see the humor through all the poop.

Later that day Neil came home from work with a pizza and instructions for me to grab a book, head to a massage appointment (that he secretly scheduled and surprised me with), and have dinner at the restaurant of my choice with only my book to keep me company! Horay for eating a meal with no one touching me! He also told me to not come home until I was sure the children were in bed. Have I mentioned lately how much I love him?

"So go away and leave me alone, don't bother me." The Beatles

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