Thursday, November 1, 2007

You Either Laugh... or you Cry.

Have I EVER got some things to say about today.

This was an incredible, crazy, insane day in the life of a Mama.

I had my 6 week checkup today, me and baby Helen. Of course, my doctor is 1 hour's drive away. I was late. I had to co-ordinate a 4 year old, a 2 year old, and a 6 week old into the van. You'd think, being the oldest of 6 kids myself, and being 'old hat' at this, I should be able to be on time when I need to go somewhere. But no - I was late.

As usual.

I went the back way at top speed, praying that no cop would pop out of the hilly highway and nab my 135 speed. So far, so good. The hills raced by, and soon I was within sight of the yellowhead. And then Lloydminster. Yes! I would only be 5 minutes late! Maybe a little more, with juggling the kids into the appointment. And I was supposed to be EARLY so that they could weight the baby first. Oh well. Maybe the doctor was running late.

My cell phone rang. The caller ID showed my doctor's name - the one I'd programmed for the clinic phone number. "Hello, TobyLauren?" I answered that yes, that was me... and proceeded to listen to the un-caring voice tell me that, we're very sorry, but we need to re-book your appointment. "What? Re-book? But I live an hour away, and I am IN TOWN for my appointment now?" "Yes, well, emergencies happen, and your doctor was just called away. I'm sorry. Can we re-schedule?" I asked her if I could possibly get in to see him today. She told me to do my running around first, and then call back. I told her to call me as soon as she knew anything.

So, I found myself with time on my hands. Not to mention 3 small children.

I needed some things anyway, including a pair of jeans, as I am still schlepping around in maternity jeans (the one pair I own). And with the new lower prices of goods, I really thought now would be the time to buy some crafty things, maybe a new appliance or two... sure, lets blow some money on things that we'll be using for a while, shall we? How about a popcorn popper? Where do they keep their onion choppers...

On to the jeans. By now, the baby was still sleeping, but the boys wouldn't fit into the burgeoning cart any longer, and had to walk. Just as well, because the close contact with each other was starting to cause problems. Ah, the naiivate of the lady who walked by with a smile and a "What a cart full of LOVE!" I had to agree when she called me a lucky lady, because I am. But love is anything but what the boys were feeling for each other after an hour and a half of Walmart.

I grabbed a few pairs of jeans, different brands and prices, different colours and cuts. I didn't really care. I just needed jeans. By now, Will was full-out whining, and refusing to follow the cart when it moved. I've NEVER had a child have a temper tantrum in a store before. From now on, I will look at the mothers of tantrum-throwing children with compassion and love, and a mental note of "There but for the grace of God go I..."

Will threw himself on the floor. Yes. The floor. Thankfully no one was around to see this very embarassing moment in my life. I turned with my cart, called back, "That is not appropriate, William. I do not want to be around a whining boy." And I walked away, asking Jimmie to follow. My dear 4 year old was instantly concerned. "But Mama! Will's not coming! He's going to get lost! You can't leave him!" I knew Will would follow us, but Jimmie didn't. I turned around to the sound of Will wailing louder, and to see Jimmie DRAGGING him along the floor.

My four year old was mopping the floor of Walmart... with his brother.

Ugh.

Will was filthy. I managed to brush him off and get the lot of us over to the change rooms. I wasn't going to even look for more jeans. I locked us all into the change room and started with my pile of 7 pairs of jeans. Nope, nope...

Nope.

Nope.

Nuh uh. No such luck.

Fine.

I walked out of the change room with my children and moved on to the baby section. At least I could get a cute baby girl outfit for Helen while I was here. Will continued to whine, and I continued to shop. And then my cell phone rang.

"I'm sorry, but the clinic is closing now, and your doctor has not returned. Can I rebook you for next Wednesday?"

ARGH! The agony! Fine. Alright. Next Wednesday. Okay.

I paid for my Walmart-waste-of-time and headed out into the whipping wind, making sure the boys were holding hands with each other and staying right beside me. We loaded into the van, and the baby started crying. Great. Feeding time.

We got to the restaraunt and settled in, and while Will was abnormally whiney (getting on my uber-parenting nerves), things were okay. I had bruchetta, my first real meal of the day. I had no idea how to count it, but I didn't really care, at that point. It was time to go, at last, so I put the now-fed baby back into her carseat carrier, and lifted Will out of his high chair. Then I looked down in horror. "What... is THAT?"

Shit.

Yes. That's what I was looking at. There was a puddle of brown - under Will's chair.

I grabbed him and we hurried off to the bathroom, diaper bag in hand.

Once in the bathroom stall, I realized that not only did he have poop practically coming out of his seams, I had no more diapers in his size. Incidentally, I didn't have a change of clothes for him, either. Oh no. No, no, no!

I pulled his pants back up, getting some of the brown goop in my hair as I bent down. Great. After trying to wash it off in the sink, we went to the van - a thoroughly horrified and humiliated me telling the waitress of the.. um.. mess... that needed to be attended to. I couldn't get out of there quickly enough.

Jimmie and Helen were buckled in, and Will was sitting gingerly on the floor in front of the passenger seat. "Don't. You. Move." I breathed through gritted teeth. "Okay, Mama," he whispered back. I actually felt sorry for him. A little. Mostly, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream or cry, or some crazy combination of all of them.

Thankfully, Walmart was just across the parking lot from the restaraunt, and we loaded in once more. This time, Will was told to STAND in the shopping cart, and we rushed to the children's section, this time buying diapers, wipes, and a complete outfit in size 2. Wafting the strong wave of smelly-bottom as we went, we checked out - getting extra shopping bags - and went into the women's bathroom.

I headed right to the largest stall and barricaded the door.

"Will, hands on the wall, now," I said.

He didn't question me, thankfully.

Into one bag went the clothing, and into the other, the water-filled diaper, and the wipes, one by one. 30 wipes later, I was almost done. This wasn't just poop. This was melted-milk-chocolate-diharrea. Ugh.

Changed and ready to go, we loaded back into the van AGAIN, this time bound for a gas station, and home. The older man at the station chit-chatted about the weather, and I tried to think about a life that was as simple as talking about the weather.

Then we drove the hour home, and went through bath time and bath time again, after Will lost it in the tub, and I cleaned it, and we started over. Finally, finally they were all in bed, though I had to change my poor 2 year old's diaper 5 more times before he finally fell asleep at 10:30.

For some reason, I thought I'd head for my doctor's appointment at 2, come home around 5, and spend some time with my family. I thought maybe we'd watch a movie together, make popcorn and cuddle happily on the couch.

In this Halloween aftermath of chocolate and candy lying around my house, there is certainly one thing I can look at my day and be thankful for.

I have lost all appetite for chocolate.

Especially the melty kind of milk-chocolate.



After about 30 wipes

1 comment:

Lauren said...

Wow! You must be supermom to handle a day l;ike that!! kudos to you :o)

My weight loss journey