My Day

(This is something I wrote to my girlfriends a few months ago on our myfamily.com site).To you first time pregnant moms, I hope this story doesn't turn you off to parenting.

To those with one child, you may want to consider keeping it that way. To those with two or more, you are welcome to laugh while you weep.

I decided to take my kids to the Children's Museum of Stockton this morning. After a 1 1/2 hour drive we arrived at the very colorful place of play and discovery. And then they took off, two kids going in completely opposite directions. I found a toddler area with a gate and corraled them for a few minutes - fresh toys and a chance for me to sit down. DS (3 years old) threw a fit when he realized he was gated in and screamed over and over "Open gate! OPEN THE GATE!". Suddenly, the other mother in there (with two perfectly behaved little girls, I might add) opened the gate and said to DS, "Look! Its open!". Clearly, this woman was a moron and shouldn't have been allowed to reproduce. Out he fled. And I dragged him back because DD (17 months) was still having fun, the museum was huge and busy and I didn't want him off somewhere by himself. As I dragged him back kicking and screaming I glared at the woman and said firmly "I need this gate CLOSED. THANK YOU."

After 2 fun filled hours at the museum I piled everyone back in the car and off we went. But then I missed my exit. So I turned around...but then couldn't find the right exit. I was lost...in Stockton. Then I smelled poop. And heard DS say "Oh...its OK, baby. It come off, but we'll fix it. Uh oh". And turned around to see that DD had removed half of her diaper and smeared the diareah contents on her arm, leg and carseat. WHAT?!? Was this really happening? I pulled over and tackled the mess...and good grief, what a mess. I used half a bottle of that hand sanitizer stuff on her and myself, scooped out the situtation in the car seat, padded it with burp cloths and got her back in. Once back on the road, DS screamed for 20 minutes because the sun was in his eyes and he couldn't get comfortable in his car seat. Eventually they both passed out.

2 1/2 hours later the journey ended and I plopped DD in her crib for a much needed second nap. DS followed me around the house crying, whining, yelling about Dora and Diego on TV. "No, a diff-ent Dora. A diff-ent Diego. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!". Then the internet connection on both of our computers died, meaning I couldn't submit the 15 minutes of work I needed to get in. 10 minutes later our home phone died. It had been on the fritz for weeks and evidently, today was the day for death. In the background I could hear DD jumping and screeching in her crib, overlayed with DS yelling about a "diff-ent Dora". I was finally reduced to tears, standing over my kitchen sink, crying quietly. DS came over and said "Mom, are you OK? You crying? Do you wanna tissue? OK, I go get". And my dear little tyrant got me a tissue and held onto my leg while I cried. Once he was satisfied that I was OK he went back to yelling and throwing toys.

With all hope of a second nap lost, I retrieved DD. She had removed her shirt and was hard at work on the button for her jeans - the room wreaked of poop. SO...I got THAT situation under control, threw up my hands and retreated to my husbands office down the hall. I had spent 15 minutes making a list of stuff to do for work when I noticed there was no fighting, crying, yelling. Instead only happy babbling. I walked out of the office to find the wipe dispenser tub in the hall, emptied of all its wipes. DS was sitting in the middle of DD room, arms, legs, face and hair positively glistening. He had overturned the laundry basket, climbed up to DD's dresser and gotten the Johnsons Lavender Baby Gel...and applied liberally. I glanced at DD, who was also glistening but with an unidentifiable substance on her eyelids and lashes.

Then I noticed my bedroom door was open....

I marched down the hall to find my tub of vanilla shea butter lotion in the middle of the room and generously used. "Where's the lid?" I asked incredulously. Did it even matter at this point? "In the bathroom. On the counter" DS replied matter-of-factly. Nothing else had been disturbed too badly, and they both stood there looking at me, glistening. I marched them back out, but they were hard to hold onto with all that lotion - slippery little people. I felt ready to kill them both, but instead turned my attention to dinner- I didn't want to deal with the glistening yet. DD threw 75% of hers on the floor; DS flat out refused to eat. I might also mention that from the time of my initial breakdown at the kitchen sink until splattered tortillas hit the floor for dinner (about 1 1/2 hours), my darling husband had been napping. Now, he did get up at 5:30 AM to drive nearly 2 hours to San Jose for meetings and then back again...but he didn't scoop diarreah out of a carseat while lost on I-5 South. So as you can probably imagine, his napping didn't put him on my list of favorites.

After the dinner disaster, the next natural step was baths. DD had a strange scent of lavender, poop and shea butter about her so it was time. While DH forced DS to eat I cleaned up DD. She fought me tooth and nail (literally, I might add. Who knew she could fight so dirty?) putting on her diaper and jammies. As soon as I released her, she found DS play drill from his tool kit, tripped and landed on the drill in such a way that the entire 4 inch bit went down her throat. TRAUMA. Once I calmed her down I deposited her in bed. While DH supervised DS's bath, I announced "I'm leaving. Bye" and walked out.

I drove to my sanctuary, my place of peace and serentity - Target. Target always makes me feel better. But as I picked up more wipes in the baby aisle I heard the shrill, tired voice of a mother yelling "Harvey, NO. No, come back here! No, you...don't...do not...HARVEY! Are you being bad? YES! You're being bad". I never actually saw little Harvey, but I heard his manical toddler laughter within the racks of clothes. As I passed this tired mother in the aisle, our eyes met and I opened my mouth to share some words of comfort. But instead, I walked on. I was tired myself and didn't really care what happened to Harvey or his poor mother. I just cared about replenishing the baby wipes and lavender lotion...and wandering aimlessly around Target.One box of wipes, a pair of cowboy boots for me and an In & Out Burger later and I finally came back home.

And that was my day.