April 17, 2013

(Does that title ring any Sublime song title bells or am I crazy? I know. I crazy.)


 Yesterday circa 2:15 in the pm ...

Let's rewind a few hot minutes. I started getting the troops ready to go to Costco around 9:00 yesterday morning and we finally sailed out of the driveway at an impressive 11:58 am. The trip went relatively smoothly, there were samples galore, and the timing worked well to meet Simon for lunch. I managed to walk out pushing the cart and juggling three hot dog + soda combos while coaching Julia to NOT let go of her beloved receipt with the smiley faces because last time the wind whipped it out of her paws she had one of her more impressive emotional breakdowns. Indiana Jones does Costco? Yawn.

We met Simon and ate outside the hospital because it was 80 degrees for the first time in St. Louis in the year 2013. The kids managed to find the only small body of water within a 100 yard radius and soak much of their clothing but who cared? It was finally not freezing and my heart was starting to thaw from it's long and strong dislike for St. Louis. We got home and I mapped out a brilliant plan to avoid dying while trying to haul in the goods while fighting Sebastian to stay inside AND avoid our super chatty neighbor that can sniff out an ear faster than you can say, "selfish with my time". Clap clap!! I left the kids in the car and sprinted in and out of the house hauling groceries in and throwing them in their proper refrigerated receptacles before I went to retrieve my young. I should've been more suspicious that Sebastian was happy to just sit in his car seat while Julia performed elaborate gymnastic routines all over the seats because he normally goes into caged animal mode as soon as I park the van. I unbuckled him and he slid down and I saw the dirty damage ...

I started praying via momchant, "please don't be poop. please don't be poop. please don't be poop. please don't be poop."

Maybe he stuffed some M&M's in his diaper instead of eating them and they melted just so? Laugh.

"please don't be .... "

I did a cautious close-mouthed inhale.

"..... shit."

Poop in the heat in the car seat and all up his back and down his legs.

I ran him inside and laid him on a dinner napkin (has seen the light of the set dinner table once? will be used never again) and stripped him down praying silent prayers that the chatty neighbor wouldn't catch wind that there were humans outside to chat with and while I was scrubbing poop out of the carpet and wrangling the army of soiled wipes (Simon claimes we have different "wipe philosophies" he uses TWO no matter the damage and I use the appropriate amount which is usually 4-15) when Sebastian snuck-sprinted out of the house in only his socks. Luckily, Julia had triple back-flipped her way out of the van and had started picking the blooms off the the tulips (?? my thumbs are the color of pigment) and Sebastian decided to join her and not play j-chicken with the cars driving by.

I ushered the big kids inside and rescued poor abandoned Theodore from the car and here we were.

... fighting over whether or not they'd get to eat strawberries before naps.

(I won)

And this was a good day.

And today?

I knew you were curious. Today is a bad day because it's pouring rain and I could've sworn I saw the kitchen walls taunting me as they closed in a little tighter to get a better look at World War III: Julia vs. Sebastian over the only sippy cup they both seem to like because they hate me. Sebastian hit Theo in the face with a metal measuring cup right after he bit Julia really hard for the infinityieth time, and when I lost my cool in the face of the zillionth sippy battle Julia told me, "it's not your fault" which made me feel really mom-of-the universe-y.

Oh, I know we all have our days and I'll have a million more but TAKE ME BACK to the sunshine and shit.