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We have had a couple of exciting things happen around our
household recently. One, my boy is potty training. (YES!)
Two, baby is sleeping through the night. And when I say through the
night, I don't mean five or six hours. I mean, she closes her eyes at
6:30 and we don't hear from her again until 7:30 or 8:00 the next
morning. You'll find out shortly why these two items are relevant to my
day.
Got home today and got everyone down for nap a little bit late. Baby is already a bit off schedule because of the fact that she's sleeping through the night now. We're still trying to work out her new eating/napping schedule. Our middle child, for whatever reason, was fighting her nap for the second day in a row. By the time she finally went to sleep, baby was waking up. I sat down on the couch to nurse the baby and it all of a sudden hit me like a ton of bricks that I was tired. Ended up laying down to nurse her and the two of us dozed off to sleep. Rather a sweet idyllic moment waking up with my darling baby. I cherish those moments. It was close to 4:30 at that time, so I changed her diaper and went in to see if my son was still sleeping. He was just waking up and still a little sleepy, so we sat and talked about what we were going to do this afternoon.
Because of the fact that he is potty training, he is still a little leaky at night. Not bad at all, but enough that the sheets and blankets needed a washing. Decided to strip his bed and our bed today to deal with the linens. During their nap time I had set up a little project for them to work on. Figured we could have a relaxing afternoon, they could have some arts and crafts time and I could get all the beds made so everyone could go to sleep some time tonight. I was telling him about the project and decided to go check on his sister.
When I walked into my little girl's room I could smell the poop as she lay curled up on her bed. My first thought was "oh, she has a dirty diaper." Until I looked closer. She was out of her clothes; poop was everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean that quite literally. On the bed, on the covers, on her stuffed animals, on her toy kitchen, on the windows, on the walls. What had possessed my darling daughter to finger paint with her feces is beyond me. But that's what it looked like she did. Of course, in the meantime, I had a load of laundry in the washer and one in the dryer. I ran out to transfer everything over while I got a bath running. Dunked little girl into a bubble bath and went back to her room to start cleaning. My son was playing with baby on her playmat in the living room while I tried to clean this mess up. Eventually he got bored with playing with her and she started screaming and he started asking me "Mommy, when are we doing our project?"
He comes in while I'm still cleaning his sister's room and says he needs to use the potty. He doesn't want to use the one in his bathroom because his sister is in the tub, so he decides to use my bathroom instead. Go for it. And instead of the seat which goes on the potty, he wants to use the little potty chair. Whatever. Knock yourself out. Still cleaning my daughter's room, baby is screaming by now, daughter is getting antsy in the tub. My son comes in and says "Mommy, the other day when I was using the potty chair, the potty tipped while I was moving it and it spilled." "Which means there's pee on the floor in my bathroom?" Nod from him. Great.
Finally getting to the bottom of the poop parade. Wash up my hands and go to tend to the baby for a moment. She's had a cold for a few days so her nose has been running to begin with. After 10 minutes of screaming, it is really running. Not to mention the fact that she has turned herself onto her stomach and scooted herself across the living room floor. So she now has snot on her and the living room rug. Get both of those cleaned up, flip the baby, put her back on the playmat.
Grab the cleaning spray and more rags and go to tackle my bathroom. "Mommy, are we doing our project now?" "Really, son?" Clean up my bathroom. Wash up again. Feeling like I need to soak in bleach at this point. Grab clean clothes for my daughter, get her washed up and out of the tub. Finally have her dressed, grab the baby and get everyone settled at the kitchen table to do their project. Call my husband up and tell him we're doing carry out for dinner tonight.
All this to say, when I tell people I've had a crappy day, I can do so without a hint of facetiousness.
Got home today and got everyone down for nap a little bit late. Baby is already a bit off schedule because of the fact that she's sleeping through the night now. We're still trying to work out her new eating/napping schedule. Our middle child, for whatever reason, was fighting her nap for the second day in a row. By the time she finally went to sleep, baby was waking up. I sat down on the couch to nurse the baby and it all of a sudden hit me like a ton of bricks that I was tired. Ended up laying down to nurse her and the two of us dozed off to sleep. Rather a sweet idyllic moment waking up with my darling baby. I cherish those moments. It was close to 4:30 at that time, so I changed her diaper and went in to see if my son was still sleeping. He was just waking up and still a little sleepy, so we sat and talked about what we were going to do this afternoon.
Because of the fact that he is potty training, he is still a little leaky at night. Not bad at all, but enough that the sheets and blankets needed a washing. Decided to strip his bed and our bed today to deal with the linens. During their nap time I had set up a little project for them to work on. Figured we could have a relaxing afternoon, they could have some arts and crafts time and I could get all the beds made so everyone could go to sleep some time tonight. I was telling him about the project and decided to go check on his sister.
When I walked into my little girl's room I could smell the poop as she lay curled up on her bed. My first thought was "oh, she has a dirty diaper." Until I looked closer. She was out of her clothes; poop was everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean that quite literally. On the bed, on the covers, on her stuffed animals, on her toy kitchen, on the windows, on the walls. What had possessed my darling daughter to finger paint with her feces is beyond me. But that's what it looked like she did. Of course, in the meantime, I had a load of laundry in the washer and one in the dryer. I ran out to transfer everything over while I got a bath running. Dunked little girl into a bubble bath and went back to her room to start cleaning. My son was playing with baby on her playmat in the living room while I tried to clean this mess up. Eventually he got bored with playing with her and she started screaming and he started asking me "Mommy, when are we doing our project?"
He comes in while I'm still cleaning his sister's room and says he needs to use the potty. He doesn't want to use the one in his bathroom because his sister is in the tub, so he decides to use my bathroom instead. Go for it. And instead of the seat which goes on the potty, he wants to use the little potty chair. Whatever. Knock yourself out. Still cleaning my daughter's room, baby is screaming by now, daughter is getting antsy in the tub. My son comes in and says "Mommy, the other day when I was using the potty chair, the potty tipped while I was moving it and it spilled." "Which means there's pee on the floor in my bathroom?" Nod from him. Great.
Finally getting to the bottom of the poop parade. Wash up my hands and go to tend to the baby for a moment. She's had a cold for a few days so her nose has been running to begin with. After 10 minutes of screaming, it is really running. Not to mention the fact that she has turned herself onto her stomach and scooted herself across the living room floor. So she now has snot on her and the living room rug. Get both of those cleaned up, flip the baby, put her back on the playmat.
Grab the cleaning spray and more rags and go to tackle my bathroom. "Mommy, are we doing our project now?" "Really, son?" Clean up my bathroom. Wash up again. Feeling like I need to soak in bleach at this point. Grab clean clothes for my daughter, get her washed up and out of the tub. Finally have her dressed, grab the baby and get everyone settled at the kitchen table to do their project. Call my husband up and tell him we're doing carry out for dinner tonight.
All this to say, when I tell people I've had a crappy day, I can do so without a hint of facetiousness.
Oh. My. Have to say it, I wasn't laughing. At all. That's a nightmare. I would have set the house on fire and never looked back.
ReplyDeleteWish I thought that quick! But you know what they say ... if you don't laugh ...
ReplyDeleteThis is one Mommy story I hope I never have! Michael is swearing it will NEVER happen in our humble abode. However, I've been warned by a very blessed friend that I WILL experience it!! :) Time will tell! Quite the story. I'm glad you recorded it so your little ones can replay it for each other whenever they bring a friend over to visit. Every sibling needs an embarrassing story to share. This one conveniently features all of them! :) --Julie
ReplyDelete