Just an Ordinary Day

Today has been an ordinary day. I know you’re dying to know what goes on around here all day when I’m not eating bon-bons or watching the pool boy work, so let me tell you about it.

I woke up at 7 a.m., when my children did. However, I pretended to be asleep so DB would get up with them. He complied. I slept until 8, but it was really a wasted effort; I ended up having a terrible nightmare while I slept, so I doubt I got much more rest.

When DB came to wake me up, I had already been awake for 5 minutes, listening to children screaming.

I got up and zoned on the couch for several minutes, trying to shake off sleep. Ladybug whined about TV. StrawBee tried to follow whoever was moving and got frustrated that she couldn’t keep up. The dogs playfully jumped each other. DB tried to get us all moving.

Eventually, we bargained Ladybug into stopping with the whining and getting her hair combed in exchange for going to story time at the library. Suddenly all sunshine and roses, Ladybug was ready 15 minutes before me and waiting by the door with her backpack on, ready to go. StrawBee got tired enough to go down for her morning nap. I left DB, still in his pajamas and unshaven despite how much effort he had already put out, and took Ladybug to the library.

We got stuck behind a moving roadblock (you know, when the car in the right lane is going slow and the car who’s passing it on the left is only going a teeny, tiny hair faster?) and ended up missing our turning (my bad) and thus made it to story time punctually by dint of me carrying Ladybug at something only slightly slower than a sprint through the parking lot and into the library.

Ladybug did great at story time. I texted with my mom and we agreed to meet at the mall, since my kiddies needed shoes and my mom needed to get out of her house. Ladybug and I drove to the mall despite Ladybug’s repeated protests of “I go HOME.” I called DB while I was driving, even while swearing to myself that I would never, ever drive while talking on the cell again, and missed him a good half dozen times, never thinking to leave a voice mail.

Ladybug decided the mall wasn’t so bad when she saw her stroller. She happily climbed in and, even better, was very entertained by all the free food samples in the food court. Nana arrived and we headed off to look for shoes. I showed Ladybug her shoe choices and she wanted none of them, instead settling on either the neon pink canvas shoes with rhinestones and glitter or the pink shoe shaped like a pony. She ended up with brown tennis shoes with little pink hearts and some silver glitter, and was okay with that because she got to push the stroller and ride the escalator twice. I grabbed Ladybug some sandals for church, and then strolled her off to look at frogs while Nana finished her shopping. After several minutes of following Ladybug around while she kept a tight grip on the sides of her pants to keep herself from touching the frog tanks, Nana met up with us again and we went to lunch.

We all felt like eating Chinese food, so back to the food court we went. Ladybug wanted juice, so a huge bottle of red powerade was purchased. She ate her chicken and noodles while Nana and I talked. Then Ladybug, who had been occasionally doing the potty dance but refusing to do anything while on the potty, suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs: “POTTY!! POTTY!!”

I helped her down from her chair and, after watching her waddle a few steps, scooped her up and made a mad dash for the bathroom. About halfway there my arm, the one supporting her bum, became uncomfortably warm and moist. My only comment: “Don’t pee any more, baby, okay?”

She did listen. We made it to the potty and she finished her business, leaving me with a half naked child and a soaked pair of toddler-sized underwear and a useless pair of equally soaked toddler pants. Oh, and no diaper bag. It was at home. I’d even left my purse back with Nana in the food court. The phone starts ringing with DB’s ringtone. I ignore it. I thank the good Lord that layering is currently in style and take off my over shirt. A minute later, Ladybug is wearing a sarong-underwear-skirt thing that’s bound to be all the rage next season and parading back out of the stall to wash her hands. The automatic dryer spooks her and she refuses to dry said hands, so we head back to our table.

I sit down only to get a text message. DB. Wants me to pick up some carpet cleaner on the way home. The dogs were fighting and managed to smear poop all into the carpet. This begs the question: Our home is mostly floored with tile and hardwood. Why would they pick the one teeny room of carpet to get into a fight? Anyway, I tell DB if he wants to be on time for class I won’t be able to pick up the cleaner. DB tells me that, on second look, there’s already some carpet cleaner stashed under the sink. He’ll have the poop gone by the time I get home.

Ladybug is ready to go. We thank Nana for lunch, pile into the car, and drive home. I only get frustrated with slow drivers once, when they almost make me miss my turning for a second time.

We arrive home with 15 minutes to spare before DB has to leave. StrawBee is waiting for us at the door, wearing a different outfit than when we left because she managed to make a disaster of the other onsie.

And we’re home.

Ladybug still prancing in her makeshift bottom-covering.

Ha.

Since then, I’ve put some real clothes on Ladybug and put both of them down for a nap. However, I hear StrawBee calling–probably she has her afternoon poopy diaper.

Just another ordinary day.

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About Carolynn the Dyer

If I've learned one thing by having three children in four years, it's that babies are not, in fact, the best birth control. ... Okay, just kidding. I've really learned that laughter is the only way to survive the wilds of parenthood, and life in general. Also, that it is indeed possible to do dishes, parent, and carry on a conversation at the same time. If that sounds like fun, or just impossible, then come join me on my blog--and join me in the jungle.
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