Tuesdays are usually our stay at home days, but today, we made plans with friends, so we had to get up and get moving.
The first time I went into Luke's room, he was awake and reading, so I told him to please get dressed. I took a shower. I got dressed. McMoose got Weston dressed. I went back into Luke's room and found him...naked and reading. Get. Dressed. Now. We need to leave soon, I told him.
Came downstairs and made breakfast and five minutes later, I was happily surprised to see two fully dressed children coming down the stairs. Two fully dressed children sat down to eat yogurt and a banana, which resulted in one fully dressed child needing to be re-dressed because yogurt. And a banana. What was I even thinking?!
They yelled and fussed and fought while I was making last minute preparations. (Water bottle? Check. Extra clothes for kids? Check. Jackets? Check. Car potty clean and ready to go? Check.) Told Luke to put on his shoes and he moaned about having to tie them. Told Weston to come to me so I could put on his shoes and he took his socks off and threw them at my head and then threw himself on the floor and had a massive meltdown (for which I still do not understand the reason.) Wrangled everyone and everything into the car and breathed a sigh of relief--we'd only be 10 minutes late, which is pretty miraculous.
We enjoyed the park. Listened to a lady talk about hawks. Sat down to have a snack. Weston sat on my lap. Soon, my lap felt strangely warm. Did you pee on me, I asked? Told him to stand up, but there's no wet spot. Ok, you can sit back down. Sorry for the false accusation.
7 seconds later, I feel the wetness. Sigh. I brought extra clothes for the kids, but never before have I needed extra clothes for myself. Next time, I'll know better. Off we go to the car, waving good-bye to the train (that we hadn't gotten to ride) and the cafe (where we hadn't gotten to eat.) I open the trunk, which is full of extra clothes and jackets and hats, have Weston stand in it, and pull down his underwear, fully expecting pee. Of course, it was poop. Which flung itself all over the trunk. All over the clean clothes. The jackets. The umbrella. My hands. And as I dug frantically through the backpack with my clean hand, I came to the horrifying realization that we were out of baby wipes.
We have many calm, peaceful, joy-filled days. And then, we have days like today to maintain the balance.
The first time I went into Luke's room, he was awake and reading, so I told him to please get dressed. I took a shower. I got dressed. McMoose got Weston dressed. I went back into Luke's room and found him...naked and reading. Get. Dressed. Now. We need to leave soon, I told him.
Came downstairs and made breakfast and five minutes later, I was happily surprised to see two fully dressed children coming down the stairs. Two fully dressed children sat down to eat yogurt and a banana, which resulted in one fully dressed child needing to be re-dressed because yogurt. And a banana. What was I even thinking?!
They yelled and fussed and fought while I was making last minute preparations. (Water bottle? Check. Extra clothes for kids? Check. Jackets? Check. Car potty clean and ready to go? Check.) Told Luke to put on his shoes and he moaned about having to tie them. Told Weston to come to me so I could put on his shoes and he took his socks off and threw them at my head and then threw himself on the floor and had a massive meltdown (for which I still do not understand the reason.) Wrangled everyone and everything into the car and breathed a sigh of relief--we'd only be 10 minutes late, which is pretty miraculous.
We enjoyed the park. Listened to a lady talk about hawks. Sat down to have a snack. Weston sat on my lap. Soon, my lap felt strangely warm. Did you pee on me, I asked? Told him to stand up, but there's no wet spot. Ok, you can sit back down. Sorry for the false accusation.
7 seconds later, I feel the wetness. Sigh. I brought extra clothes for the kids, but never before have I needed extra clothes for myself. Next time, I'll know better. Off we go to the car, waving good-bye to the train (that we hadn't gotten to ride) and the cafe (where we hadn't gotten to eat.) I open the trunk, which is full of extra clothes and jackets and hats, have Weston stand in it, and pull down his underwear, fully expecting pee. Of course, it was poop. Which flung itself all over the trunk. All over the clean clothes. The jackets. The umbrella. My hands. And as I dug frantically through the backpack with my clean hand, I came to the horrifying realization that we were out of baby wipes.
We have many calm, peaceful, joy-filled days. And then, we have days like today to maintain the balance.
No comments:
Post a Comment