A Day

12:20am Grace wakes up whining. She's too congested to breath, but is just confused and uncomfortable so she continues to moan and groan. I was actually still awake trying to finish my book. Brandon Mull is a great author.

12:47am Ditto. This time I was not originally awake.

1:32am Ditto.

3:09am Ditto. (You get the idea.)

5:30am-ish (or sometime when it's still dark) Janson leaves for work. I remember that last night he said, "Oh man. I have to wake up early to lay some legs out to defrost." Huh?

7:10am Mari falls out of bed. I put her in mine, and think "I should probably get up." I realize that Grace is probably too sick to go to school, but we're in charge of bringing snacks. If I bring the snacks and not let her stay for school, lengthy tantrum will be inevitable. Instead of facing my decision, I fall back to sleep in our heavenly new pillow-topped $90 bed.

8:10am Jump out of bed. I have 20 minutes to get myself and the girls in the car. Just the thought makes me sweat. I'm still not sure if Grace will stay for school, but either way we're bringing snacks.

8:13am I grab clothes in the dark, hoping they match. Wake up Grace, beg her to hurry.

8:17am Debate between sacrificing the time to put on my contacts, or do Grace's hair. My eyesight wins out. I'm so selfish.

8:23am Grace is dressed. Hallelujah, for once she was fast. Get Mari out of bed.

8:25am Prepare preschool snacks. Girls climb into car, Mari still in her footie PJ's.

8:30am Realize there is rainy wind storm outside. Collect windbreakers and umbrella.

8:32am Pull out of garage. Remember that I forgot to brush my teeth.

8:50am Get double stroller out of car, get hit in head by trunk door that won't stay open in cold weather. Plop girls in stroller, they whine about windy rain.

8:52am Whip out umbrella, try to put it over girls, but wind is winning the battle.

8:53am Mari's eye is almost poked by delinquent umbrella, attempt to close it. Stranger on sidewalk helps.

8:55am Force Grace in bathroom stall before entering school room. Remember that community center gym locker room is closed for maintenance, so women sparsely clothed are wandering restroom. Shield the sights from Grace while enforcing her lengthy hand washing session

9:00am Liberally lather Grace's hands in hand sanitizer. Hug Grace, hand over snacks. Leave.

9:09am Outside Target, battle wind while carrying Mari, who can't walk in rain puddles with footie PJ's. Notice her PJ's are feeling damp around diaper. Remember that I have no diapers.

9:11am Enter Target, with prepared list in hand. (Sometimes I actually do prepare.)

9:24am Try to ignore Mari's discomfort due to full diaper. Give her toys/books for distractions.

9:37am Joyfully shopping. (No sarcasm this time.)

9:42am Shield Mari's eyes (and ears) from scary Halloween decor, which are conveniently placed next to the harmless, conservative wreaths I'm looking at.

9:54am Leaving Target, battle rain/wind with full-cart, crying, wet child and head-banging trunk door. What do I do for an hour before picking up Grace?

10:00am Burgerville drive-thru. Grab breakfast so I can take morning meds.

10:06am Enter community rec center. Sit at table, put food and toys in front of Mari.

10:12am Nicely dressed and blow-dried lady next to me looks at Mari in disgust. I look at Mari, as though for the first time today. She has extreme bedhead, is soaked to her heels and now has a very potently poopy diaper. Oh, and she refused her food, continuing to sneak sips from my Diet Coke. The sight of an infant drinking soda is so endearing.

10:33am If you are in need of a serious guilt trip, eat fast food in the front waiting area of a rec center or gym.

10:46am Third person in a row has sat down nearby and then soon moved to a seat farther away. Mari's smelly diaper is not helping my social life.

10:55am Mari pushes the double stroller down hall, hitting one trash can, two toddlers, one wheel chair, and nearly enters the men's restroom. (Why do so many public restrooms these days have no proper doors?)

11:00am Pick up Grace, leftover snacks, and rush home.

You get the idea. Things got better from there, as they often do when we're at home base. Random highlights of the rest of the day:

- Girls helped me clean bathroom. I found Grace "cleaning" Mari's bed with a vinegar/water spray bottle.

- Picnic in the living room. I watched Mari "comb" the carpet with her fork between each bite.

- Mari has had frequent bouts of suddenly saying "Peepee!" or "Poopoo!" and running to the toilet. She stares at the toilet, tugs at her diaper, and flushes the toilet. After this happened for the 3rd time today, I thought, "How old is she again? 19 months? 20? 21? Definitely not 23." I forego the calculations and just dig out the little potty from storage. I strip Mari down, and she happily sits on it for 30 minutes while watching Elmo's Potty Time. If she wants to potty train herself, sounds good to me. Otherwise, I'm making no real effort until she's 2 1/2 years old (and I KNOW she's not that old yet).

Moral of the story: There are many times today that I've been tempted to say, "I'm such a bad mom." But as an acquaintance taught me, it's only okay to say that as long as you complete it:
"I'm such a bad mom. But really, I'm NOT a bad mom. I'm NOT."

And it's true, I'm not. So there, blow-dried lady at the rec center. So there.

I'm such a good mother that I bought a new humidifier at Target, which will allow Grace to sleep through the entire night, which will allow ME to get more sleep, which will allow me to wake up earlier so I will be more prepared for the day. Right? Learn from my mistakes, right? At least I should be able to brush my teeth and put clothes on my youngest child. Right? Please tell me yes, because I'm having my doubts.

No matter what, Nana flies in tomorrow, and we are SOOOOOOO excited!