I feel very lucky to work at an office where my hours and my work weeks are short, allowing me lots of time to spend with my kids. Currently on Mondays and Wednesdays I don't start working until 11 am, which means that I get two workdays per week to give the boys baths in the morning, get them fed, and get them dressed--all at a leisurely pace. We get to play a little and usually they are great mornings.
Usually.
Every once in a while, instead of a nice leisurely morning of playing and putting lotion on freshly-bathed kids, the wheels come off and chaos rules in our household. One such morning happened last Wednesday.
We had been having a great morning so far, just playing a little and talking some. Harrison took and good morning nap which allowed me to get dressed for work at a relaxed pace.
Right as I was preparing the necessary bottles for Harrison for the day, I heard him wake from his nap in my bedroom. He started to cry but I was almost finished so I quickly put the last bottle together and then went in to get the baby.
By the time I got into the room, the crying had reached a fever pitch. The sight that greeted me on the other side of the door was like a mommy nightmare--unbeknownst to me, Carter had gone in before me to 'help' calm Harrison in my absence. My sweet big boy was trying a trick he had seen mommy and daddy use to quiet baby Harrison--giving him some dark colored medicine from a dropper bottle. In his clumsy two-year-old hands, however, the medicine dropper became a weapon, essentially subjecting Harrison to a very traumatic intubation. (I exaggerate, but seriously, he had jabbed that dropper waaaay to the back of the throat and Harrison was not happy about it.)
Once Harrison had been rescued, I looked around and noticed that not only was my 5 month old's face covered in the inky black colored Colic Calm medicine, but so were three large areas of my carpet. My formerly white carpet. My carpet that I'm trying to sell (along with the house) in just a few weeks. Oh my. Clean up on aisle three!!
Got the carpet treated as best I could and then went into the living room to nurse Harrison. As soon as I sat down, Carter told me that he needed to use the potty. He's gone by himself before without incident, so when he told me he wanted to go 'by myselfs' I didn't argue. I was busy anyway, right? I could hear his progress from the living room: walking to the bathroom...going in the potty...pause for wiping...flush...pause...pause...flush...pause...pause...too much pause...followed by several more flushes. I put Harrison down and rushed in just as the water in the toilet bowl reached the level of the lid. It turns out that it only takes 1/2 roll of wadded toilet paper to clog our toilet. Who knew?
Flood averted, I returned to the living room with just enough time to finish nursing and get to work. I put on a video to distract Carter and fed H-man. Right on schedule, he finished eating and I moved him to my shoulder for a burp before I out him in the car seat and he erupted like a volcano. He spit up what seemed like a pint of milk. The little burp rag I had on didn't stand a chance. In the end I had to change my shirt, my pants, and the baby.
Somehow, someway, we still got to daycare and work on time. By the time it was all said and done, I was laughing at all the misfortune of our morning. It was high-pitched, crazy lady laughter, but, hey, laughing is better than crying, right?
As they say, the struggle is real. Ha.
