This is reality, folks!
I think many of you parents can identify with the reality show that occurred in our household though out the day today.
My mom and dad came down to take our two-year-old on his first train ride. The morning started off with "gamma and pa-paw" arriving with sprinkle donuts and coffee. We put a blanket on the living room floor and had a little "carpet picnic" as we like to call them. Fun, right? So fun! You know though that "sprinkle donut" and "carpet picnic" and "toddler" equals, mess. But thats ok. We were honoring the saturday morning donut tradition and anticipating Ben's exciting day out with gamma and pa-paw.
Fast forward a few hours and everyone had left on their way to the train depot, hubby was sleeping (he works night shift and sleeps during the day) and Miss. Molly, our 11-week-old had settled in for her two-hour morning nap.
NICE! Mommy time! I can take a bath. I can shave my legs. I can have a second cup of coffee in peaceful solitude. I didn't have the sound of Daniel Tiger or Jake and the Neverland Pirates to contend with Diana Krall on my iPod. I had two-hours of sacred. mommy. bliss.
Fourty-five minutes later Miss. M woke up crying. "She's an hour and a half early!" I thought. So much for me time.
The afternoon progressed with a fussy-baby, dishes and bottles piling higher and higher, my husband waking up to try and help calm said fussy baby and those sprinkle donut crumbs still on the floor being neglected by the vacuum I should have been running.
Mr. B comes home waving the ticket from his train ride and telling me all about the "wowd (loud) train whistle" and the "BIG lellow snake" he got to pet. He was so excited and so exhausted. He is so precious.
We finally got Miss. M settled down with what seemed like her 10th bottle of the day. Both kids were tired and ready for a late nap. We got them tucked in and had just enough time to make and enjoy a little intimate dinner and settle onto the couch for what was building up to be a little "husband and wife time". Cue our second born starting to cry again. So much for husband and wife time.
About an hour later, just as my husband was getting ready for work and Mr. B was waking up, I look at my husband with what must have been a sort of panic in my eye.
"I dont feel very good." I reply, as I feel the churning in my stomach and cramping in my gut.
I knew what was coming. I knew that I was about thirty seconds away from having a fussy baby, a grumpy, sleepy toddler, a husband about to walk out the door and a meeting with the porcelain God that I had not put on my calendar.
That third taco at dinner, and maybe the second cup of coffee I'd had in my 45-minutes of mommy bliss were now reeking havoc on my intestinal tract. Meanwhile my daughter is in her bouncy seat watching Elmo and starting to fuss again, and my toddler, who I can hear, is in the playroom throwing his Thomas train at the wall in frustration because he can't understand why the train, and his entire arm, can't fit through the track tunnel.
After round three in the bathroom, saturating my shirt in leaking breast milk from a crying baby that I could not carry with me to and from the commode, and a toddler who was now stomping on the swarm of ants that had converged over the neglected sprinkle donut crumbs, I desperately reached for the Imodium and the phone. I needed grandma!
Ever had a night like tonight? Thank goodness my grandma came over to help because the evening ended with Miss. M projectile puking all of her bottles of the day, Mr. B losing his binky and the pirate toy that he sleeps with, and my grandma and I sprinkling red cayenne pepper on the carpet and setting ant traps.
THIS is reality, folks! And all I could do tonight was laugh!
My mom and dad came down to take our two-year-old on his first train ride. The morning started off with "gamma and pa-paw" arriving with sprinkle donuts and coffee. We put a blanket on the living room floor and had a little "carpet picnic" as we like to call them. Fun, right? So fun! You know though that "sprinkle donut" and "carpet picnic" and "toddler" equals, mess. But thats ok. We were honoring the saturday morning donut tradition and anticipating Ben's exciting day out with gamma and pa-paw.
Fast forward a few hours and everyone had left on their way to the train depot, hubby was sleeping (he works night shift and sleeps during the day) and Miss. Molly, our 11-week-old had settled in for her two-hour morning nap.
NICE! Mommy time! I can take a bath. I can shave my legs. I can have a second cup of coffee in peaceful solitude. I didn't have the sound of Daniel Tiger or Jake and the Neverland Pirates to contend with Diana Krall on my iPod. I had two-hours of sacred. mommy. bliss.
Fourty-five minutes later Miss. M woke up crying. "She's an hour and a half early!" I thought. So much for me time.
The afternoon progressed with a fussy-baby, dishes and bottles piling higher and higher, my husband waking up to try and help calm said fussy baby and those sprinkle donut crumbs still on the floor being neglected by the vacuum I should have been running.
Mr. B comes home waving the ticket from his train ride and telling me all about the "wowd (loud) train whistle" and the "BIG lellow snake" he got to pet. He was so excited and so exhausted. He is so precious.
We finally got Miss. M settled down with what seemed like her 10th bottle of the day. Both kids were tired and ready for a late nap. We got them tucked in and had just enough time to make and enjoy a little intimate dinner and settle onto the couch for what was building up to be a little "husband and wife time". Cue our second born starting to cry again. So much for husband and wife time.
About an hour later, just as my husband was getting ready for work and Mr. B was waking up, I look at my husband with what must have been a sort of panic in my eye.
"I dont feel very good." I reply, as I feel the churning in my stomach and cramping in my gut.
I knew what was coming. I knew that I was about thirty seconds away from having a fussy baby, a grumpy, sleepy toddler, a husband about to walk out the door and a meeting with the porcelain God that I had not put on my calendar.
That third taco at dinner, and maybe the second cup of coffee I'd had in my 45-minutes of mommy bliss were now reeking havoc on my intestinal tract. Meanwhile my daughter is in her bouncy seat watching Elmo and starting to fuss again, and my toddler, who I can hear, is in the playroom throwing his Thomas train at the wall in frustration because he can't understand why the train, and his entire arm, can't fit through the track tunnel.
After round three in the bathroom, saturating my shirt in leaking breast milk from a crying baby that I could not carry with me to and from the commode, and a toddler who was now stomping on the swarm of ants that had converged over the neglected sprinkle donut crumbs, I desperately reached for the Imodium and the phone. I needed grandma!
Ever had a night like tonight? Thank goodness my grandma came over to help because the evening ended with Miss. M projectile puking all of her bottles of the day, Mr. B losing his binky and the pirate toy that he sleeps with, and my grandma and I sprinkling red cayenne pepper on the carpet and setting ant traps.
THIS is reality, folks! And all I could do tonight was laugh!
Being a mother means your plate is always full i wish i could tell you that today wont be the same as yesterday but change will come, you have a very hard job with an infant and a child that is going thru terrible twos and a new sibling. Having had three children i know theres never enough mommy time I pray today is better than yesterday and tomorrow is better than today and its never wrong to call in the troops when needed lol have a wonderful and blessed day today give the kids a kiss from their great aunt.
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