I didn't think that the joy that was Christmas day when Sebastian wasn't quite 2 months old and was certainly not his laid back self yet and Simon was on his 8th day of working 12-14 hour shifts in a row and Julia was inexplicably projectile vomming everywhere could ever be topped. But yesterday gave it a serious run for its fun. Oh, you don't want to hear another broken record of a complainy post? I'm almost sorry.
Like most Sundays when Simon is working, I got the kids ready for Mass (including packing up Julia's caboodle of crap) we drove to meet him at the hospital for Mass in the hospital chapel. Of course, a patient (selfishly) decided to time her needs for the exact hour that Mass began and left me and kids (very patiently) waiting in the parking lot. I eventually put on my grown woman pants and heaved Sebastian inside while walking as fast as Julia's little legs would take us which was v-e-r-y s-s-s-s-s-l-l-l-l-l-l-l--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-w-w-w--w-w-w-w-w.
"Hello, my name is Julia and I am the proud owner of the 'slowest walker in public ever' title"
By the time we slinked into the back at 9:06 the Gospel was being read because this is probably the fastest Mass in the whole entire universe. And by the time Simon ran in a few minutes later, the inaudible homily was practically over. I was temporarily blinded by annoyance (not anger, never anger -- I am a saint) and don't exactly remember but I think there may have been some whisper-barking about priorities and residency and priorities again -- I think. We got through Mass with Simon's pager only going off twice and his phone only getting a zillion urgent texts that were not at all disruptive. I knew that I deserved a hospital cafeteria donut or 12 for my good behavior but apparently an unscheduled c-section had other plans for my grumbling tum
I shifted gears and set my sights on some not that fast but still kind of fast food down the road. After discovering that Chick-Fil-A is (still) closed on Sundays (which I support but am not exactly pleased about) I gunned it to Dunkin Donuts and praised the good Lord for the invention of the drive-thru window. Surely the inventor had mothers with children in car seats in mind when he bestowed that brilliance upon America. Surely. We met some friends at the park where Julia efficiently and pungently evacuated half my coffee and all of the donuts she ingested into her diaper and Sebastian broke and ate my favorite necklace that I was stupidly wearing.
After driving home and walking a sleeping Sebastian almost inside while watching Julia Molasses Patton "walk" inside, Sebastian followed Julia's Christmas day suit and projectile vommed allllllllll over the back of my dress. I pleaded with Molasses to please hurry and as soon as we got all the way in the door he erupted again -- and again -- and again -- and again. Julia happily narrated the entire thing, "poooop!!! pooooop!!!" so that was nice. He smiled happily while I unhappily cleaned the gross and pealed my dress of my person. Before I had had a chance to put a different set of momclothes on I noticed that Sebastian's sprint slither to the toilet had left a path that looked like poooop!!! And it was. All the way up inside his neckfolds -- much to Julia's diaper-change-watch-loving delight. It's a good thing I was wearing my hazmat suit of no clothes because it made cleanup a lot easier.
I guess the climbing action of the story sort of stops there. He continued the vomfest after his nap which only worried me because his diaper was totally dry (miracle -- never happens) but some diluted Pedialyte down the hatch seemed to cure his ailments and he is back to his overly happy self today.
"Hello my name is Sebastian and I know how to turn sinfully lax moms into crazy hypochons"
I have to admit that I not at all begrudgingly hired Barney this morning to watch the kids while I showered off the dried remnants of Sebastian's short-lived bug, spot cleaned my pajama jeans, and (most importantly) "dear blogged" all about yesterday. De nada.
I'm still not laughing about Christmas so we'll see how many weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, or lifetimes pass before I can manage a forced smile over the joyous memory of this interminable weekend.
Like most Sundays when Simon is working, I got the kids ready for Mass (including packing up Julia's caboodle of crap) we drove to meet him at the hospital for Mass in the hospital chapel. Of course, a patient (selfishly) decided to time her needs for the exact hour that Mass began and left me and kids (very patiently) waiting in the parking lot. I eventually put on my grown woman pants and heaved Sebastian inside while walking as fast as Julia's little legs would take us which was v-e-r-y s-s-s-s-s-l-l-l-l-l-l-l--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-w-w-w--w-w-w-w-w.
By the time we slinked into the back at 9:06 the Gospel was being read because this is probably the fastest Mass in the whole entire universe. And by the time Simon ran in a few minutes later, the inaudible homily was practically over. I was temporarily blinded by annoyance (not anger, never anger -- I am a saint) and don't exactly remember but I think there may have been some whisper-barking about priorities and residency and priorities again -- I think. We got through Mass with Simon's pager only going off twice and his phone only getting a zillion urgent texts that were not at all disruptive. I knew that I deserved a hospital cafeteria donut or 12 for my good behavior but apparently an unscheduled c-section had other plans for my grumbling tum
I shifted gears and set my sights on some not that fast but still kind of fast food down the road. After discovering that Chick-Fil-A is (still) closed on Sundays (which I support but am not exactly pleased about) I gunned it to Dunkin Donuts and praised the good Lord for the invention of the drive-thru window. Surely the inventor had mothers with children in car seats in mind when he bestowed that brilliance upon America. Surely. We met some friends at the park where Julia efficiently and pungently evacuated half my coffee and all of the donuts she ingested into her diaper and Sebastian broke and ate my favorite necklace that I was stupidly wearing.
After driving home and walking a sleeping Sebastian almost inside while watching Julia Molasses Patton "walk" inside, Sebastian followed Julia's Christmas day suit and projectile vommed allllllllll over the back of my dress. I pleaded with Molasses to please hurry and as soon as we got all the way in the door he erupted again -- and again -- and again -- and again. Julia happily narrated the entire thing, "poooop!!! pooooop!!!" so that was nice. He smiled happily while I unhappily cleaned the gross and pealed my dress of my person. Before I had had a chance to put a different set of momclothes on I noticed that Sebastian's sprint slither to the toilet had left a path that looked like poooop!!! And it was. All the way up inside his neckfolds -- much to Julia's diaper-change-watch-loving delight. It's a good thing I was wearing my hazmat suit of no clothes because it made cleanup a lot easier.
I guess the climbing action of the story sort of stops there. He continued the vomfest after his nap which only worried me because his diaper was totally dry (miracle -- never happens) but some diluted Pedialyte down the hatch seemed to cure his ailments and he is back to his overly happy self today.
I have to admit that I not at all begrudgingly hired Barney this morning to watch the kids while I showered off the dried remnants of Sebastian's short-lived bug, spot cleaned my pajama jeans, and (most importantly) "dear blogged" all about yesterday. De nada.
I'm still not laughing about Christmas so we'll see how many weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, or lifetimes pass before I can manage a forced smile over the joyous memory of this interminable weekend.
Oh my gosh, Grce! What a horrible weekend! It's killing me that I can't come over and watch the kids while you go get a mani/pedi :)
ReplyDeleteYou're the best mom and wife ever. xo
Oh, that sounds like such a horrible day. You poor woman. Loved Julia's play-by-play, though.
ReplyDeleteAs for TV-as-babysitter, I present you with this quote from a friend of mine, mother to five children under 6: "My MIL told me that [TV] was God's gift to parents which came about when the medical advances drastically lowered the infant mortality rates." Note: her MIL has 13 kids. And they're all doing just fine!
So sorry for your crummy day. I hope today is treating you better. If it makes you feel better, my husband has bought me exactly one piece of jewelry, a necklace, which he got when we were on our only real vacation together (in 11 years). It was lost to a bored child during mass about a year ago. Luckily, I only have two other necklaces to my name, which I'm too lazy to wear, so they are still safe and sound.
ReplyDeleteAlso, to make you feel better, Veronica narrated our visit to the zoo on Saturday, by saying, "goose poop," at the top of her lungs for the entire two hour trip. That's not at all embarrassing. I promise.
Oh my gosh Grace. I am crying laughing -- which I'm allowed to do since we had two under two (then three under three) while starting a business, which was sort of like being in residency, except without the lucrative paychecks. Also, I volunteer to kick in the shins anyone who tells you to treasure these moments because they're going by so fast.
ReplyDeleteWait. That comment made it sound like *I* was the one starting a business while having three under three. We know that can't be true, seeing how I'm still alive. My husband was the one starting the business. And, anyway, it led to a LOT of days like these.
ReplyDeleteSo I chalk these up to "YaYa Sisterhood" moments. Did you see that movie? Then, a week later I thank God I am not yet locked up in a mental institution.
ReplyDeleteOh my! I might have had days like that but I think I blocked them all out. We had 5 boys in 7 years and we actually bought our own carpet cleaner for those "fun" days(and nights)!
ReplyDeleteOk, I can't even complain about this weekend. You win.I so wish I could come help you...pour many glasses of wine and hire someone to come clean your clothes and steam your floors.
ReplyDeleteLove,
The idiot feeding her kids a dozen doughnuts and assuming they'll take a nap, even though that's roughly two pounds of pure sugar coursing through their small systems.
Lol!....Grace, I am sorry your weekend was disastrous but thank you for the laugh. At 41 weeks pregnant, my sense of humor is missing. I figure it's hiding out somewhere with my patience for 2 year olds until baby arrives. Laughed so hard I nearly lost bladder control (not that impressive for someone with a whale on their bladder) but also caused tears to run out of my eyes which were not those of an over emotional crazy woman. Ahhh to laughing, how I've missed you.
ReplyDeleteannemarie210@hotmail.com
A much needed break from my boards studying! Thank you for the laugh! (Also, I was diagnosing, albeit poorly, while reading this...I think I'm officially insane.)
ReplyDeleteI love how your drama filled posts always include serene, beautiful photos of your gorgeous children!
ReplyDeleteAlso, sooo sorry for all the hardships! You're a saint!! :)
My husband was deployed to the middle east when my 4th was 2 weeks old. I feel your LONG weekend!! I often thing that we Mommy's struggle with our own form of PTSD in the form of VERY long memories of VERY bad days and weekends. Mine comes into play when my husband suggests going anywhere that involves driving in the car for more than 20 minutes. My immediate reaction is a resounding NO WAY!!! Then I remind myself that my youngest is now 7, and everyone is capable of remaining in the car for longer than 20 minutes without crying, screaming, kicking, hitting, whining, etc. Although sometimes I still do that....! My in-laws live about 3 hours away and I always dreaded driving there. I still remember a few years ago when we made the entire drive with all 5 kids without stopping one time. It was a minor miracle.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this post. It makes my own weekend look downright pleasant. Even though my 15-month old is getting on my nerves even when she is happily talking to herself ("what do YOU have to be so freaking happy about?!") and I cannot see a break anywhere in my near future except (hopefully) in 3 weeks after a 20-hour trip home to my mom which includes 3 flights. God, give me some miraculous patience!!!!
ReplyDeleteSuch sweet, beautiful pictures of slow-walkers and vomiters. Hang in there, Mom.
ReplyDeleteAs a doctor's wife myself...I feel your pain. Residency is a grueling, exacting and humbling experience for the physician and his family. Sometimes I think the family suffers more than the doctor does because we're almost always second fiddle to someone else's emergencies even if we're having an emergency of our very own. Makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes. We're finishing up our second residency next month (long story as to why/how we've done two of these ridiculous experiences), but I hope you have better days just ahead on the horizon. I hope you have another doctor's wife with whom you can vent...sometimes they're the only ones who will understand what your life is like as a pseudo-single parent.
ReplyDeleteJen
Nothing whatsoever to add here, or any other blog for the rest of my life. Just like to see my name and skinny self picture as often as possible.
ReplyDeleteChick-Fil-A is (still) closed on Sundays (which I support but am not exactly pleased about) -- Funny that you said that because I always think the exact same thing.
ReplyDeleteGod bless you, Grace! You handle life with the kids on your own so much better than I do with my three 3 young ones & my husband away on military duty. It's all about survival & making it through each day, taking one day at a time . . . oftentimes just hanging on. We don't have family around to help, so I've discovered that, for me anyway, the key to my sanity is hiring regular mother's helpers/babysitters who help with the kids, dishes, laundry, or whatever is needed. All I ever want to do during that time is sleep, but I usually do accomplish something else that will help us to continue functioning in the house for another half a day or so. I love your blog! I can relate to it so well. You articulate your life right now so well with great humor. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThere are no words, Grace. No. WORDS!
ReplyDeleteBless you, woman. Bless you.
hahah i like her new nickname - Julia Molasses.
ReplyDeleteJust real quick: I think that the way you are able to put a funny spin (even when you don't necessarily feel like it) on your situation; your day...you are making great strides as a mother. Your kids are really lucky. Honestly.
ReplyDeleteAs so many have said before, reading these posts this weekend (albeit, hilarious and noteworthy) made me wish we lived closer! I am more than willing to corral our kids in the backyard so that you can finish a full cup of coffee (without having to warm it up a million and a half times...or is that just a problem I have?) Here's to hoping that this coming week is full of a few moments like that. I know I'm waiting it out for it to happen one of these days :)
God bless you Grace and those sweet babies of yours!
oh man, grace, that's just, well, I get it! lurker but this brings me out - I read every day, weekends too, interminable ones - I'm home with 20 months little and kindergarten-going (but not answering questions not sure what's going on in his noggin most of the time language processing disorder maybe autism) big brother. spacing way different but I sure get what it's like to get two, one intractable, anywhere, especially somewhere you really really want to be but have to pretend to not care about lest you tempt the fates.
ReplyDeleteMmm. This post makes me so hungry!
ReplyDeleteYou are my hero! My husband's working on his ph.d and this makes my bad days look like nothing!!!
ReplyDeleteSending you virtual hugs! Wandered over here thanks to Jen @Conversion Diary the other day, and my gosh, I so feel your pain! My husband *just* finished his OB/GYN residency last June and I haven't forgotten the 80-100 hour work weeks that meant the kids (3 of them) and I spent every.single.moment.of.the.week together. Not to mention that a resident's salary doesn't leave much room for "unnecessary" childcare...
ReplyDeleteHold on to this: it does get better. My husband's in a small private practice (just him and one other doc) and even with being on call every other night, it's a lifetime of better. But for now, many hugs, and I feel your pain!
How in the world do you manage to make even vomit sound funny? Sorry your little man was sick. There's not a whole lot that's worse than vomiting babies. =(
ReplyDeleteSaw this on pinterest and thought of you ;)
ReplyDeletehttp://www.howtocleanthings.com/how-to-clean-vomit.htm