Double Trouble

Whew, I am exhausted. I've not done a single thing today. I only left the house two times: once to my parent's house to get a break from SB and once to pick up something for dinner so I didn't have to cook. I suppose I am just recuperating from yesterday. Here's how it went down.

6:30 am: Jack accidentally wakes SB up while he is getting ready for work. I reluctantly roll out of bed, already exhausted from another sleepless night. (not SB's fault. just having trouble sleeping lately.)

8:30 am: I put Grumpy down for a nap and make a break for my bed in hopes of catching a quick nap myself.

8:45 am: I am drifting off to dreamland.

8:45 1/2 am: The phone rings. I curse the caller under my breath and try not to hurt myself while running for the phone. It could be about a job, and I don't want to miss a client's call.

8:46 am: It is a telemarketer. I tell him thanks for ruining my nap, and I hope he gets hit by a car on his way home from work.

8:48 am: I am wide awake in bed, worried that he might actually get run over later and I would be responsible.

10:00 am: The fun begins. SB is up and ready to party. We're off to the pool. I quickly don my swimsuit and made the mistake of looking in the mirror before putting on my cover up. I decide that it's time to lose some weight.

10:15 am: I stop in at Wendy's for a healthy breakfast, per my new diet. I notice a fantastic picture of their sausage and egg biscuit, dripping with melty cheese. I don't know who does the photography for Wendy's, but they are fantastic. That biscuit was just dancing out of the wrapper. I order one, and since it's just such a great deal, make it a combo with hash browns and a coke. diet. I promise myself a healthy lunch.

11:45 am: We are ready to leave the pool. My 4-year-old neice Mary is in town, and my sister-in-law Corrie suggests we take the kids (her 1-year-old son Judah and 2 1/2 year-old daughter Caroline plus my 9 month old SB plus my 4-year-old neice Mary, who is under my watch for a few hours) to McDonalds to play. What a wonderful idea, I say.

12:15 pm: We have wrangled all the children out of the pool, dried them off, dressed them and loaded them into our cars, lured with promises of cheeseburgers and chicken nuggets ringing in their ears.

12:18 pm: On the way to McDonalds, I hear distress calls coming from the back seat. Mary has decided to see how much of her hair she can tangle and stick into the velcro portion of her sun hat. At a red light, I turn to survey the damage. Most of her hair is in a tangled mess, her hat dangling off the side of her head. I assure her that I can fix it as soon as we get to McDonalds. Leave it alone, I tell her. You will only make it worse.

She ignores me. She makes it worse.

12:20 pm: We have arrived at McDonalds, and I begin the task of detaching Mary's hat from her tangled hair. I have never seen such a mess. After several minutes of yanking and pulling, I am almost certain I am going to have to cut her hair. Mary has beautiful, long curly brown hair. Only the horrified look I could clearly imagine on her mother's face kept me from doing this. Five minutes later, she was free of the hat and several handfuls of hair.

12:30 pm: I order a happy meal for Mary and after the stress of the velcro hair incident, I feel I deserve a break. I order a chicken sandwich and fries. Plus a coke. not diet. because chicken is better for you than beef. It all equals out. I have SB in one arm and a tray full of food and drinks in the other. Mary and Caroline are obediently walking beside me while Corrie waits on her food. I attempt to open the door to the play room and almost fall/drop the food tray and SB. A kind lady opens the door for me and smiles sympathetically. I know what she was thinking: "What is she thinking??"

What was I thinking?

12:31 pm: Mary drops her sprite. Liquid is everywhere. SB goes into a high chair, which is disgusting, no doubt. I didn't have time to sanitize it but could imagine all of the invisible, microscopic bacteria that silently lay in wait to poison my daughter. I say a little prayer that she won't contract AIDS. The kind lady who opened the door for me reappears with a roll of paper towels and another sympathetic smile. I get on my knees to clean up the McDonald's play room floor and say a little prayer that I won't contract AIDS. I throw away the wet towels and return to the table, only to realize that I didn't dry the entire area as I slip and fall on my rear end. The kind lady is there, once again, to help me to my feet. My humiliation is complete.

12:33: Mary has to go potty. I won't delve into my feelings towards public bathrooms, let alone the McD playroom bathroom. I take Mary to the bathroom and spend several minutes covering the toilet seat with paper before I allow her to sit down. I cringe as she deftly shifts the paper off the seat as she hops on. I say a little prayer that she won't contract hepatitis. or AIDS.

12:50: The kind lady is back, this time looking for her son, who is hiding at the very top of the play room tunnel maze, refusing to come down.

"Jack, it's time to come down!"
no response.
"Come on, Jack, let's go now."
Little Jack is unmoved and uninterested in coming down from his perch. I find it rather ironic that this little boy is named 'Jack.' The begging continues for several minutes until her husband enters the action. Time to lay down the law.

Father: "Hey, Jack, you want some ice cream? How about some
chocolate? We can go get cookies!!"

Mother: "Yay! cookies and ice cream!"

12:55 pm: The promises of treats unimaginable continue to flow from the kind lady and her husband as they name every delectable goody known to mankind. It will all be his if he just comes down from the tunnel. and he won't even get a spanking if he comes down right then! Little Jack is doing an amazing job of ignoring his parents, and I begin to worry about a similar situation arising when I announce it's time for us to go. Corrie helpfully tells me that she had the same problem with her daughter last time they were at McDonalds. I decide we are going to be here a while.

1:00 pm: Miraculously, Mary and Caroline both come down the slide at the same time, and we grab them before they can go back up. I am somehow able to carry SB, my purse and the diaper bag to the car while holding Mary's hand, load up the items plus SB in the car while keeping a dancing Mary out of traffic, then get Mary in the car after putting her velcro hat out of reach for the trip home.

1:05 pm: Mary asks where we are going, and I tell her back to Hunny's house (that's what she calls my mom.) She insists that she wants to go to my house so she can play with SB. I am exhausted, but I can't say no to that adorable little face. Plus I feel bad about ripping out all of her hair.

1:45 pm: SB is down for her afternoon nap, and I tuck Mary into the couch for "movie time" which was my code name for nap time. I laid down on the other couch so we could all nap at the same time. I wasn't aware that 4-year-olds do NOT take naps.

Mary is an adorable child, and she is also very intelligent. She can speak at the speed of light and pepper you with questions like machine gun fire. A problem arose when she began asking things about the cartoon like, "How did that man change into a llama?" and "Could I fly if I had wings like that?"

"I don't know." or "Maybe." are not acceptable answers to her incessant questions. If you give her an indefinite answer, she demands, "yes or no?" I finally just began to say "yes" every time I heard a break in her questioning. Apparently, she had asked for a snack somewhere in there, and when I said yes, she took it to heart. She dragged me off the couch and into the kitchen where she spotted Jack's DSOs. Double stuffed oreos are somewhat of a staple in our diet. Don't come around here with that regular oreo crap. I will say this: DSOs are the only oreos worth eating.

I give Mary a couple of cookies and she asks me some more questions. I find solace in the open bag of DSOs.

3:30 pm: SB is awake and stinky. I change the diaper and put her on the floor so I can wash my hands. When I return, Mary has emptied SB's toy box and spread all of her stuffed animals around the floor. SB is completely enthralled, so I take the opportunity to run to the living room to answer the phone. Two minutes later, I return to SB's room to see Mary lifting SB up under her arms and dragging her across the floor to me. So helpful.

4:00 pm: Jack is home, and I decide it's time for Mary to go back to my mom's, after Mary explains to Jack that she was the one who ate all his "Ortey-Ohs." and can she have another ortey-oh when she comes over again?

5:00 pm: Mary has been returned to my parents and my house has been restored to order. Dinner is nowhere in sight, and Jack is hungry. I need vegetables but settle for KFC with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.

5:20 pm: On my way back home, as I bite into a warm KFC biscuit, I see a jogger. I resist the temptation to hit him as I have another bite. I promise myself that I will exercise tomorrow.

6:00 pm: I am settling in for a quiet night at home and an early bedtime when I remember that I have a vaccine meeting that starts in one hour. Our very first meeting in this area. I have to arrive early to set up and prepare in case anyone shows up. I kiss Jack and SB goodbye and head out the door.

9:00 pm: Arrive home, exhausted. Jack is already in bed, as he worked all day in the heat and then had to deal with SB singlehandedly while I was at my meeting. I recount the day's events and recall the diet decision that I had made earlier that morning. Then I recount how many cookies I ate at the meeting. I'm pretty sure I only had three. Plus a coke. not diet. I promise to do better the next day.

I didn't.