Well, there's another story that can't go untold! It all started on this beautiful Monday morning that my husband didn't have to go to work. We had decided that we would use this Monday off to venture to the zoo. Because we had afternoon obligations, it would have been ideal to be out the door by 9:30am so that we could arrive at the zoo right when it opened at 10:00. I unfortunately let the stress of being on time sour our morning. I'll recount the disastrous day the best I can!
So, I got up with the dog at 7:15 and found three of the children had just got up to enjoy cartoons. I thought it would be nice to let my husband sleep in a little, but was somewhat frustrated that there was a lot to be done before our adventure to the zoo...most important besides a nice breakfast, an enjoyable morning home together and a lunch packing venture, was for me to take a shower. This was needed since the days prior there had not been a decent opportunity!
My daughter reminded me that I promised pancakes. Perfect. Oh wait, we were out of eggs and oil. Two necessary ingredients. I tried to convince her that we could do pancakes the following morning, but then realized that I was out of creamer for my coffee. So, at 8:00, I ran upstairs and let my husband know I was running to get the eggs and oil, thinking he would jump out of bed. Wrong. I would find my children still supervising themselves when I reentered the house a short time later. Oh, and of course, while in my pj's at Walgreens, I found out they were out of creamer. The kind cashier let me take 5 of the mini-creamers intended for coffee buyers so that I could at least enjoy a cup of coffee or two.
So, at home, I was rather irritated. Although, there was not a good reason to be. It was a nice morning and my husband deserves a morning in bed. I shouldn't have been frustrated. But, alas, I slaved over breakfast and gave as many huffs and dirty looks as I could. I insisted there was no time for me to even sit down because I had to make lunches and get ready for our day...remember, I needed that shower.
After many requests for me to sit down, I reluctantly joined the family for breakfast. Trying to enjoy this moment we rarely get of a nicely cooked breakfast and no where we really needed to be. But, for some reason, the zoo time had etched itself in my brain and I could not let it go. So, I told my husband I just wouldn't shower. His irritation was growing from my terrible attitude. After we got the kids all ready, the table cleared, the lunches made, etc, I decided to go get ready. It was at that moment that I realized I was destroying our wonderful morning. So, I thought that maybe it wasn't that big of deal that we didn't get to the zoo RIGHT at 10. I went upstairs to shower.
I hurried the getting ready process along so that we would only miss our deadline by a few minutes. My husband had got everyone in their coats. Their shoes were on, the dog was put away and we were ready to make it out the door. It was 9:50. Perfect. We'd make it by a little after 10. My one-year-old then walked over to me as I had my hands full heading out the door. She had her hand out and there was definitely something all over it. I wasn't sure what it could be until I examined it closer. Oh, dear GOD. It was POOP. All over her hand. I didn't know what to do. She had stuck her hand down the backside of her diaper and had it ALL OVER. My husband grabbed the wipes...as if that would help with awful situation.
I took her up, somehow got her clothes off of her and then wiped her down the best I could. I stuck her in the bath and started the wash off. Finally, she was clean, she was dressed and we tried to exit the house yet again. This time it was a success. We made it to the zoo by 10:30...not too shabby and enjoyed a wonderful morning, minus the snow storm that had started while we drove there and the 50 mile an hour wind that had presented itself. We stuck to the indoor activities and headed to the IMax at 12:15 to enjoy our lunch while we watched an awesome movie on butterflies.
I thought the day had made a remarkable turn-around. That is until we picked up one of my daughter's friends to drop off at a girlscout event. I grabbed my one-year-old out of the car to walk the two girls in and realized that she was SOAKING wet. Geez. I wrapped her coat around her and figured we wouldn't be in there long and I could handle this second diaper disaster of the day. So we walked in and my older daughter decided it would be funny to announce the morning happenings...poop hand and all! The mom's got a good laugh, but the joke was on me.
I got out to the car and wrangled the wet one-year-old into the car seat with her coat still wrapped around her. It was then that I noticed her hand and her face. She was covered in cheese. We had eaten cheese popcorn as part of our lunch and her fingers and face were stained orange. I am sure all the mothers in there were so disgusted, thinking that the hand was still stained or covered in the poo from the morning disaster. I was mortified!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
January 29th, 2013
I'm excited to finally get this blog up and running! While I am not sure yet the road I will travel with this blog, my hope is to promote my book and it's message in small doses. My book, It's Okay: Let's Get Real About This Thing We Call Parenting, is my first. The philosophy of 'It's Okay' started when I was working full time and feeling like I could not complete any part of my life well. My job was suffering, my kids were driving me crazy, my husband and I were bickering constantly, I felt fat and unhealthy, and, and, and...
So, as I shared my feelings with a few people, I found that I was not alone in my struggles. Though it was terribly hard to admit that I was feeling like a failure, when I finally did, I realized that I was not. I realized that it's okay to be overwhelmed. It's okay to slow down. It's okay to not love every minute of the life I was blessed with. I could feel the way I did and still be thankful.
My book is all about moments in parenting that can be extremely overwhelming at the time, but if we step back, we can actually laugh at the moment and realize that it's okay! Just the other day, I had a one event after another that could have come together for an amazing story in my next book...
I was getting four kids ready to get out the door for my son's wrestling tournament. My husband had left at 5:00am to go and help set up the tournament. We were to be there by 8:30. The morning was one frustrating moment after another. I had a screaming match with my four-year-old, actually thinking that I might come out the winner...NOT! So, we got out the door, late- but out the door. We arrived at the tournament at 8:40. Not horrible. However, the line to get in was a block and a half long. I quickly ran to the front thinking since I had a wrestler, we could all get in. Wrong again. Only my son could go in. So in trying to call my husband and waiting for him to come to the door (I was NOT going to send my six year old into an arena by HIMSELF), the line grew considerably longer. Oh, and it was raining that morning. So, the eight-year-old, four-year-old, one-year-old and myself trudge back to the end of the line. Twenty minutes later we were finally up to buy our tickets. "That will be $16." What? I thought she was kidding. This was a tournament for kids...seriously? Anyway, I, of course, only had $12 cash. So I asked if they took check cards. You guessed it...nope. So I drag my whiney children over to the ATM. It ate $20 of my dollars. Ugh. Second try...the cash came out. As we went back to pay...my one-year-old took off. We make it to the window to pay (it was a different lady this time) and she announces, "That will be $12." Are you kidding me? I paid and headed in. Guess what time my son finally wrestled...11:30. Yes, you heard right, I had to deal with my four children for two and a half hours. Our snacks were gone within twenty minutes.
So, I left my hubby with my son and we headed home to nap the one-year-old. After eating lunch and getting ready to take my girls to a basketball game for girlscouts, I had a moment of peace. I should not have let my guard down. I should have known better. My four-year-old wet her pants. Not just a little on her underwear, but all over the couch. The puddle below on the floor looked like a full gallon of liquid was spilled. I cleaned her up, helped her change and headed back upstairs. I was greeted by my son's puppy (Santa brought him...why? why? why?). He had spilled his entire water bowl ALL over the kitchen. Oh, and we were supposed to leave in two minutes. My sleeping daughter had pooped herself and I had to deal with that too.
Finally, we made it to the game. A little late, but not horrible. We get in and start to get settled. I asked my oldest daughter if she wanted to switch me seats so that she could sit by her friend. As we were switching I leaned on the row of seats in front of me to let her slide by. It was really too bad that the seats move both forward and backward. It moved, I lost my balance and completely fell over the seat in front of me and landed on the floor. My legs were hiked up over my head and for a minute or two I was frozen as to what my next move could possibly be. The game ended up being pretty enjoyable, but if I want to get 'real' about it, it was completely overwhelming trying to control my two younger children and entertain them so that we could make it through the two hour game.
As we were leaving the game and saying our goodbyes my four-year-old announced she had to pee. So, I sent my oldest with her. I was talking to an adult when I looked over to find my eight-year-old on top of my four-year-old trying to stop her from going somewhere. The only problem...it was right in the middle of the hallway. The hallway where the entire stadium was exiting. I ended the battle, got everyone in and out of the bathroom and could hardly breathe. Tears pricked my eyes the whole way back to the car.
My good friend called while I was driving. I didn't recount all the horrors in my day, but let her know I was feeling guilty that I was having such a crappy day knowing that we had another friend who had a daughter in the hospital. I mean my day WAS NOT that bad. She reminded me that 'it's okay' to feel overwhelmed and to wallow in my misery every once in a while.
My hubby and I got to go out that night with friends. A margarita and some good old fashioned adult conversation made it all better. It's okay!
Check out my website at http://itsokaybooks.com!
I'm excited to finally get this blog up and running! While I am not sure yet the road I will travel with this blog, my hope is to promote my book and it's message in small doses. My book, It's Okay: Let's Get Real About This Thing We Call Parenting, is my first. The philosophy of 'It's Okay' started when I was working full time and feeling like I could not complete any part of my life well. My job was suffering, my kids were driving me crazy, my husband and I were bickering constantly, I felt fat and unhealthy, and, and, and...
So, as I shared my feelings with a few people, I found that I was not alone in my struggles. Though it was terribly hard to admit that I was feeling like a failure, when I finally did, I realized that I was not. I realized that it's okay to be overwhelmed. It's okay to slow down. It's okay to not love every minute of the life I was blessed with. I could feel the way I did and still be thankful.
My book is all about moments in parenting that can be extremely overwhelming at the time, but if we step back, we can actually laugh at the moment and realize that it's okay! Just the other day, I had a one event after another that could have come together for an amazing story in my next book...
I was getting four kids ready to get out the door for my son's wrestling tournament. My husband had left at 5:00am to go and help set up the tournament. We were to be there by 8:30. The morning was one frustrating moment after another. I had a screaming match with my four-year-old, actually thinking that I might come out the winner...NOT! So, we got out the door, late- but out the door. We arrived at the tournament at 8:40. Not horrible. However, the line to get in was a block and a half long. I quickly ran to the front thinking since I had a wrestler, we could all get in. Wrong again. Only my son could go in. So in trying to call my husband and waiting for him to come to the door (I was NOT going to send my six year old into an arena by HIMSELF), the line grew considerably longer. Oh, and it was raining that morning. So, the eight-year-old, four-year-old, one-year-old and myself trudge back to the end of the line. Twenty minutes later we were finally up to buy our tickets. "That will be $16." What? I thought she was kidding. This was a tournament for kids...seriously? Anyway, I, of course, only had $12 cash. So I asked if they took check cards. You guessed it...nope. So I drag my whiney children over to the ATM. It ate $20 of my dollars. Ugh. Second try...the cash came out. As we went back to pay...my one-year-old took off. We make it to the window to pay (it was a different lady this time) and she announces, "That will be $12." Are you kidding me? I paid and headed in. Guess what time my son finally wrestled...11:30. Yes, you heard right, I had to deal with my four children for two and a half hours. Our snacks were gone within twenty minutes.
So, I left my hubby with my son and we headed home to nap the one-year-old. After eating lunch and getting ready to take my girls to a basketball game for girlscouts, I had a moment of peace. I should not have let my guard down. I should have known better. My four-year-old wet her pants. Not just a little on her underwear, but all over the couch. The puddle below on the floor looked like a full gallon of liquid was spilled. I cleaned her up, helped her change and headed back upstairs. I was greeted by my son's puppy (Santa brought him...why? why? why?). He had spilled his entire water bowl ALL over the kitchen. Oh, and we were supposed to leave in two minutes. My sleeping daughter had pooped herself and I had to deal with that too.
Finally, we made it to the game. A little late, but not horrible. We get in and start to get settled. I asked my oldest daughter if she wanted to switch me seats so that she could sit by her friend. As we were switching I leaned on the row of seats in front of me to let her slide by. It was really too bad that the seats move both forward and backward. It moved, I lost my balance and completely fell over the seat in front of me and landed on the floor. My legs were hiked up over my head and for a minute or two I was frozen as to what my next move could possibly be. The game ended up being pretty enjoyable, but if I want to get 'real' about it, it was completely overwhelming trying to control my two younger children and entertain them so that we could make it through the two hour game.
As we were leaving the game and saying our goodbyes my four-year-old announced she had to pee. So, I sent my oldest with her. I was talking to an adult when I looked over to find my eight-year-old on top of my four-year-old trying to stop her from going somewhere. The only problem...it was right in the middle of the hallway. The hallway where the entire stadium was exiting. I ended the battle, got everyone in and out of the bathroom and could hardly breathe. Tears pricked my eyes the whole way back to the car.
My good friend called while I was driving. I didn't recount all the horrors in my day, but let her know I was feeling guilty that I was having such a crappy day knowing that we had another friend who had a daughter in the hospital. I mean my day WAS NOT that bad. She reminded me that 'it's okay' to feel overwhelmed and to wallow in my misery every once in a while.
My hubby and I got to go out that night with friends. A margarita and some good old fashioned adult conversation made it all better. It's okay!
Check out my website at http://itsokaybooks.com!
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