Today was supposed to be a great day. The hubby starts his new, full-time job, in an office and everything. We have (had by the time this gets published) a baby-wearing meeting to socialize, try another style carrier, and just get out of the house. Planned to get lunch out, then run to store for a few things and back home in time for afternoon nap. But things never happen as planned, right?
There are a bunch of old sayings, like "bad things always come in threes" or "the grass is always greener on the other side" or "if it looks like a duck, and sounds like a duck…" (oh, wait, that's something completely different ). So today's saying for my morning is that just when things are looking up, they're about to go into the crapper. Literally. Here's the day so far:
2am – woke up
4am – gave up trying to fall back to sleep and started to plan out the day
5am – went downstairs for midol (yep, a nice little added bonus) then back up to take a shower. Accidentally woke the hubby. Luckily it was about 3 minutes before the alarm was set to go off.
5:50am – back downstairs to mind the bambino, who was starting to smile and coo in his bassinet. Changed his clothes and put on cloth diaper.
6:15am – heard the stirrings of the toddling over the monitor (really? You usually don't wake until 7:30 or so); begin force-feeding morning bottle to Milk Shark, so I'll have a few minutes to attend to his older bro in a bit
6:45am – let dogs out back (one refuses), prep morning bottles and breakfast
7am – retrieve a Fuss from his crib. Note that this is easier than normal, as he's still dressed, hasn't eaten any diaper bits, and the diaper is still on under the pajamas. Say quick thank you for small favors. Change him into cloth diaper and shorts.
7:15am – breakfast for Fuss, put Milk Shark in bassinet, and he falls asleep (again, easier than normal – double bonus!) (and yes, this is where I should have begun to get worried)
7:30am – realize Fuss has thrown most of breakfast to the hounds (aka dachshunds) and wants fruit. Only have canned beans and tomatoes on shelf, and one last cup of diced peaches. Give him peaches and cheerios.
7:40am – Shark awakens with brain-piercing shrieks – wet dipe and spit up all over himself. Quickly clean up infant.
7:45am – Realize I'm hungry and nuke 2 taquitos, gulp them done while too hot, then take both offspring to living room for morning tv (luckily able to change channel before "the drama that is Charmed starts now".) Position baby on lap to accommodate feeding/burping/sleeping ritual.
8:10am – Hear/feel seismic quake on lap & laugh at baby as he's grinning smugly up at me. Decide to wait a couple minutes to ensure bowel is completely evacuated (don't want another "play dough factory" incident.)
8:12am – Fuss comes over & hugs little brother (adorable!) but squeezes a bit too hard eliciting a large amount of spit up (not so adorable!) Grab burp cloth and wipe spit up off leg, sneeze, wipe nose with….. wait for it….. poopy burp cloth. Try not to puke in mouth as the realization hits that it was only a tiny bit of spit up, and the great spreading warmth all over my legs and stomach was the first ever Milk Shark diaper blow out.
8:13am – Place baby on changing table, remove shirt and pants and roll into a ball and throw on kitchen floor to rinse out later (but hopefully soonish), and proceed to clean up baby. So glad I bothered with that shower since I now smell like baby poop, at least my hair is still..um, yep, still clean.
8:20am – morning time resumes; call folks to see if they have withdrawal and want to see their grandkids (yes, but visitors
company uninvited-by-them guests should be there any minute, can you come over tomorrow?)
9:10am – retrieve Fuss from top of dog crate he just learned to climb
9:11am – ask Fuss to get off dog crate or have a time out
9:12am – repeat 9:11am
9:12:25am – again
9:13am – ask Fuss to not stand on the drawer he just opened (I can't even open it it's so tight, how the hell…?)
9:14am – get Fuss a bottle of milk and snack cup
9:30am – change Fuss' diaper and take him up for nap/quiet-play time at his request; feed more ammo to Milk Shark
9:50am – Put sleeping baby in bassinet again, take crap-filled laundry to machine, let dogs out again (same one refuses)
10:15am – Pick up crying baby, insert bottle to block sound, start hunt-and-peck single-digit typing
10:35am – Currently listening to toddler talk on the monitor, with sleeping baby on lap, twisted to side to use both hands to type, and trying to decide if leaving the house this afternoon is a great idea and diversion, a necessary evil, or just plain necessary.
10:42am – trying to decide to laugh, cry, or sleep.
How's your day?
P.S. 10:51am finish re-reading post, noticed several grammatical/spelling/tense errors, but just don't care to correct them right now. Will publish post and let friends point them out and feel like an idiot about it later.