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Murphy’s Law

This morning, I set my alarm extra early so I could cut up some apples for my oldest’s class since we were assigned to bring the snack today. Nine apples, a bag of carrots, and eighteen zip-loc bags…shouldn’t have taken more than about ten minutes. Silly me…

I set my alarm for 6:00am, knowing full well that I probably wouldn’t get a shower in before taking her to school at 7:45. My two-year-old gets up by 6:30 at the latest, so I figured half an hour shoudl be plenty. Off went the alarm, signaling me to scoot to the kitchen.

First things first. I have three cutting boards, two of which are plastic ones that can take a tri pthrough the dishwasher, and I couldn’t find either, despite knowing that one was just removed from the dishwasher and put away within the past two days. Since this was really bothering me, I kept looking for at least one of them for several minutes, until my son came down the stair sto greet me, not a second past 6:10. My older daughter following within minutes, and still no board, hence no cutting. At least I had washed the things by this point.

To my son’s room to change his bottom and dress him for the day, and get him to start his turn of brushing teeth. Then, to have my daughter start on her teeth, and get some clothes out for her. (Thank goodness she can completely dress herself.) Did I mention that the baby woke up and wanted to eat right after the other two woek up? Yeah, that happened, too, so I went to her room next, changed, dressed, and fed her, then put her back down so I could finish brushing teeth and get things ready for school.

Back to the kitchen to get the kids breakfast.  I finally found one of the boards, after asking my husband where they were stashed (not in the usual place, and one is still missing). Everything was bagged, drinks and paper products in a bag and out to the car (not to mention the important show-and-tell bag for the day), and finally I was ready to get myself somewhat presentable. Then the baby started crying.

Blowout city. Really, baby? You were already dressed for the day, and couldn’t hold that in for any more than fifteen minutes? And you rolled over so it was all squished up the front, and all over your sheets? Awesome. Oh, and while I was rinsing poop-clothes in the sink, my husband mentioned that he had to be in for an early meeting, so couldn’t be much help. (I will say he is usually very helpful, and I’m lucky that I am afforded the opportunity to stay home to raise our children. That being said, girlfriend still stays up way too late to put in a couple of hours for my own job each night, and needs a nap. Which the kids have not been taking at all this week.) 

Long story short (or as short as it’s going to get), I managed to get myself dressed, get everyone out the door, and make it to school with minutes to spare. We actually had to wait in the lot for them to open the doors, we were that early. How did that happen?!?


Out the Door

As [almost] any parent will attest (anybody catch the Tracy Gold Celebrity Wife Swap this past week? Never late, not even once? Really?), sometimes we just can’t get out the door when we planned. This morning was a good illustration of how that happens.

Sunday mornings are reserved for a usually leisurely breakfast, reading the paper, playtime, then getting ready to head out to Noon Mass. We live exactly one mile from Church, so it should be easy. Somehow, we are still scrambling to get out the door and in the pew before the bells start ringing, and we’re usually in the pew right as Mass starts, occasionally with even a few minutes to spare. This morning, though, left us a wee bit late.

My husband bathed the kids while I changed the baby, got her dressed, and picked out the older two’s clothing and my own. Then he showered and dressed while I took care of the other two, then I head to get ready. While I’m finishing up and we’re doing the everybody-head-downstairs-roundup, we tell the oldest to go to the potty, to find that the outfit that I had her put only not even 30 minutes before had been removed to make way for dress-up clothes. The result is never as simple as just getting the other clothes on, we have to find her regular clothes among the dress-up options, which is exactly why I had them stored on a high shelf for a couple of months until a friend came to play the other day.

While we’re headed into Church on this unseasonably warm day, I noticed, since her jacket was open, that her shirt was actually on backwards. It’s a cute little gymboree number with a “necklace” that attached to buttons, but the closure buttons from the back were on the front, and the necklace was backwards. That was help from dad. She wanted to hit the bathroom before we headed in to switch it, but we were already late, so I figured no one would notice.

Otherwise, things were pretty smooth. Until I picked up the baby and she pooped through. I guess that *technically* that was smooth, too.

At least we were not the last ones in. So there’s that.

Number Three

My family ventured out tonight with a list of things needed for the house, namely a dresser and nightstand for our oldest. The furniture shuffle will move her dresser to the baby’s room, you know, because the sterilite drawers in there for now won’t cut it once she’s out of the bassinet, and out of our room. (PS- Said drawers are cracked, right down the side. What the what? I’m guessing that it was that way in the store when I bought it, since they’ve only been in the room for about a week, and the older two are waaaaay more interested in scattering the basket of baby toys around than exploring the world of “putting things away.”)

During the day, we went room-to-room making a list of things we need so we can pick them up when we spot something that will work, some a little more important than others. Curtains, paint, that pesky dresser…things like that. So, we leave close to dinner time, decide to eat out, and away we go.

We figured we’d hit a couple of places to check the goods before ultimately deciding to The debate is mainly should we spend a little more now, or get something for the next however many years that will probably need to be replaced. So we hit Big Lots first, only to find that the stuff was so cheap that we would probably only get a year out of it. The result? Two small bags of spicy Chex Mix and a roll of kraft paper. Nice.

Then we told the kids we’d take them to dinner. The plan was to feed the baby, head in, get something to eat, and hit the next place on our list.

I fed the baby in the car, and, long (or not so long) story short, she pooped all over my lap. I had a stain on my jeans, and a handful of baby excrement, not to mention two kids in the back who wanted to eat in. Naturally, I had removed the change of clothes from the diaper bag earlier because something leaked on them, and never replaced them. Undeterred, I undressed the baby, cleaned her up and changed her diaper, kept her socks and bib on, and headed to a drive through for din-din. (Yes, it’s not the best, but it’s such a treat for the kids because we let them have it maybe once every couple of months…)

After eating, my husband asked what I wanted to do. “We may as well head to where we were going.” She has one of those nifty zip-up car seat covers, plus a blanket…not to mention the bib, diaper and socks. As long as no one unzipped the cover, it would go unnoticed that she was nearly a naked baby. And off we went to the next place on our errand list. Thank goodness, because it takes darned near as long to corral everyone to get out the door as the amount of time we were actually out.

And so it goes with the third child.

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