After breakfast, about 10am...
Ezra is whaling b/c he just woke up from nap and he's hungry. I lie down to feed him and Sofie starts trying to wrestle with me as I nurse. This is how she plays. "Gentle, please! I coax her off, then,"OK, time to get ready for the PARK!"
Then we begin the dance of toddler manipulation and persuasion - which starts by me telling her 200 times to get dressed, you can't wear that dress, b/c it's dirty, and please find your shoes - your park shoes, not your dress shoes - please put them on... switch the feet. Where's your hairbrush? Hold still, please, it takes longer when you wiggle... okay, toothbrush time. And please go potty before we leave.
EZ is having a fit, b/c I'm not holding him, I'm putting clothes on. He ejects the pacifier like six times. I give up and brush my teeth while he fusses in the background.
Sofie starts crying about having to go potty. I start jiggling EZ in my arms. "We can't go to the park until you at least try," I say. She pouts around for a few more minutes complaining about not wanting to go. When she finally does, she pees instantly, and a lot. At least I don't have to convince her to breathe, JEEZ.
She flushes, washes, and she runs to the car. But, she trips. She's hysterical. I put EZ down, pick her up and we walk around, which settles her. She's not badly hurt, so I get her in the car and buckled. "Can I have a banana, please?" Of course, love.
EZ is pissed off again. I scoop him up, pluck a banana and hand it to Sof waiting patiently in the car, and I head to the bathroom to refill the wipes for the diaper bag... the last to-do before we head out. But, I smell poop when I walk into the room. The diaper garbage is overflowing, arrrrgh. I throw it out.
Damn, I forgot the wipes. I retrieve from the bathroom and deliver to the diaper bag, where I see just one diaper left. I jet back to the b-room to refill. But while there, I notice those pukey and poopy clothes in the corner that EZ has soiled. I put him down again to toss the biohazards in the wash.
Finally, I get EZ buckled in his carseat in the kitchen, ready to carry out to the car. Shoot, the water bottle is just 1/3 full and that won't last us. While I refill, the kitchen garbage is screaming at me to take it outside. EZ is getting angrier by the second because he's not being rocked or fed.
I put him in the car, the sway calms him as I carry him in. Sof is still working on her banana.
Shoot, nature calls to momma, gotta go! "Be right back guys!" as I slam their doors shut. I hear EZ start to cry from the bathroom. I finish my business and remember to grab snacks for the park. EZ is still screaming and Sofie joins in, whimpering about something. I go through my mental checklist before I shut myself in the car with the screams: wallet? keys? phone? sunblock? snacks? water? diapers? wipes? spare clothing? plastic bag for soiled clothing? stroller? pacifier? baby blanket? CHECK! It's 11:30am.
There's not a soul at the park, b/c it's lunch hour.
PS. I wouldn't trade my job for any other in the world.
Ezra is whaling b/c he just woke up from nap and he's hungry. I lie down to feed him and Sofie starts trying to wrestle with me as I nurse. This is how she plays. "Gentle, please! I coax her off, then,"OK, time to get ready for the PARK!"
Then we begin the dance of toddler manipulation and persuasion - which starts by me telling her 200 times to get dressed, you can't wear that dress, b/c it's dirty, and please find your shoes - your park shoes, not your dress shoes - please put them on... switch the feet. Where's your hairbrush? Hold still, please, it takes longer when you wiggle... okay, toothbrush time. And please go potty before we leave.
EZ is having a fit, b/c I'm not holding him, I'm putting clothes on. He ejects the pacifier like six times. I give up and brush my teeth while he fusses in the background.
Sofie starts crying about having to go potty. I start jiggling EZ in my arms. "We can't go to the park until you at least try," I say. She pouts around for a few more minutes complaining about not wanting to go. When she finally does, she pees instantly, and a lot. At least I don't have to convince her to breathe, JEEZ.
She flushes, washes, and she runs to the car. But, she trips. She's hysterical. I put EZ down, pick her up and we walk around, which settles her. She's not badly hurt, so I get her in the car and buckled. "Can I have a banana, please?" Of course, love.
EZ is pissed off again. I scoop him up, pluck a banana and hand it to Sof waiting patiently in the car, and I head to the bathroom to refill the wipes for the diaper bag... the last to-do before we head out. But, I smell poop when I walk into the room. The diaper garbage is overflowing, arrrrgh. I throw it out.
Damn, I forgot the wipes. I retrieve from the bathroom and deliver to the diaper bag, where I see just one diaper left. I jet back to the b-room to refill. But while there, I notice those pukey and poopy clothes in the corner that EZ has soiled. I put him down again to toss the biohazards in the wash.
Finally, I get EZ buckled in his carseat in the kitchen, ready to carry out to the car. Shoot, the water bottle is just 1/3 full and that won't last us. While I refill, the kitchen garbage is screaming at me to take it outside. EZ is getting angrier by the second because he's not being rocked or fed.
I put him in the car, the sway calms him as I carry him in. Sof is still working on her banana.
Shoot, nature calls to momma, gotta go! "Be right back guys!" as I slam their doors shut. I hear EZ start to cry from the bathroom. I finish my business and remember to grab snacks for the park. EZ is still screaming and Sofie joins in, whimpering about something. I go through my mental checklist before I shut myself in the car with the screams: wallet? keys? phone? sunblock? snacks? water? diapers? wipes? spare clothing? plastic bag for soiled clothing? stroller? pacifier? baby blanket? CHECK! It's 11:30am.
There's not a soul at the park, b/c it's lunch hour.
PS. I wouldn't trade my job for any other in the world.
