Today started as most days do around here…Honey tiptoes around the house getting ready for work while I quietly lie in bed savoring the last few minutes of peace and quiet until the littles rise. Once they awake, the game is on. I start diaper changing, teeth brushing, hair combing and dressing everyone for the day.
With those aerobics accomplished, I rush downstairs to feed the two ravenous beings that are literally doing their best to eat me out of house and home. This consists of a two frozen frozen waffles for the PCP with a side of syrup and blueberries and two to three toasted frozen waffles for the best baby in the world with syrup and blueberries drizzled on top, and “milkshakes” made of bananas, strawberries, yogurt, milk and flax. We spend an hour coloring, pretending to be monsters and watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse before the lady making the cushion for the basement bench comes by with her son. The boys play and she tries to talk me into recovering my hideous bedroom chair. I tell her that as much as I would love to, instead I must buy a new garage door. They depart and we dine on a yummy lunch of pita pockets with peanut butter, strawberries and sunflower seeds.
Next I attempt to fold laundry while the littles terrorize the play room. Giving up on folding any laundry, I herd everyone to the car for our requisite weekly trip to Tar-jay to pick up necessities such as Valentine’s and tweezers (since mine were inadvertently misplaced after the lego incident.) While there, Cookie proceeds to dump an entire bottle of 409 out on the floor of the Valentine aisle. I nearly slip and break my head open while leaving the scene of the crime to report that “someone” has spilled “something” slippery all over the Valentine aisle to the first red-vested employee in sight. Meanwhile, Cookie reeks of 409 and I’m sure they guy instantly knew I was the “someone” in question. Mortifying.
After that exhausting excursion, I wrestle them out of the car, through all of the diversions in the garage (scooters, trikes, balls – it’s WAY too cold for this mama) and into the house. And finally, the long awaited much anticipated time of the day has arrived. Cookie’s nap time. Once again, I pat myself on the back for making it to two p.m. with two children accounted for and eight limbs intact. First I settle John on his computer to nap, bathe and play with his new virtual dragon (I credit Honey with the idea and Daddy-O for financing it.) Then, I close the blinds in the nursery, put a fresh diaper on Cookie, engage his crib side aquarium and ensure he has both lambies, both black cats, his pillow, blanket, paci and three books. I kiss him on his sweet, hot forehead and bid him goodnight. At last.
And this is where my average day goes haywire. Just as I lie my weary, sinus infected head on my freshly laundered pillow case I hear running down the hall. Curious because John knows better than to raise such a racket during Cookie’s nap time. And what to my wondering eyes does appear at my bedside? COOKIE. No, you did NOT just climb out of your crib.
Oh, but he did.
After a few more attempts, I threw in the towel, wishing that I weren’t drugged on Claritin and could partake in a glass of wine. Instead, I muddled through the last hours of the day, hoping that this was some sort of a fluke and that he’ll quickly forget his newest trick.
There is not a day in recent memory when I was so very pleased to see reinforcements walk through the door!
Cross your fingers for me, y’all.