This morning started out fine (and chilly). Theron's brother and his wife stayed overnight, we all slept in, and I made stuffed french toast for breakfast. (If there's one clear advantage to having company, it's that I thoroughly enjoy an excuse to make french toast.)
After getting quite full on such an indulgent breakfast, I checked my grocery list, put the dishes away, and packed the kids into the van to head to the grocery store. This is, oddly enough, the first time in a while that I've had to take all three kids grocery shopping and I was actually looking forward to it. Wegmans has this wonderful play area where someone will watch your kids for you, for free, for an hour, while you shop. I drop Sully and Eva off (They LOVE it! They actually cry when I come to pick them up.) and Quinn and I have a merry ol' time shopping. It has actually made me look forward to grocery shopping.
I should have had an inkling that the day was not to go as smoothly as I would like when I had to keep returning to the bathroom. I had also indulged in a rather large (for me) cup of coffee this morning and its spasmodic effect on my bowels was most unenjoyable, although Quinn didn't seem to mind the frequent interruptions in our grocery routine. To say the least, I'm through with coffee for a few days.
The constant trips to the potty, however, really made my hour feel much shorter than it was. Toward the end of the remainder of that time, I was running around the store trying to get everything on my list before I had to pick up Eva and Sully. It all worked out, though, and I managed to pick them up on time, almost exactly to the minute.
From there it went frighteningly downhill. When I got the check out, I put all of the groceries on the belt, had over half of them rung up, when it occurred to me that I probably had left my wallet at home. A cursory glance inside my bag proved I was right. (Deep breaths in, deep breaths out.) While this realization hit home, Eva and Sully were slinging insults, swats and hair pulls on the benches across from the check out. I started to sweat.
In a lightbulb moment, I called Theron and told my tale of woe. He, fortunately, doesn't work far from Wegmans and was able to come to my rescue. Unfortunately, I had to wait, with my full cart and hungry toddlers, for him to arrive with the money. More name calling and general harrassment ensued. Also, while we waited, I discovered that Sully had, once again, had a pee-pee accident in his pants. This has been a recurring source of frustration for me (and probaby him) and it felt like the straw that broke the camel's back. Silly of me to think that. There's always worse waiting around the corner.
I labored into the bathroom, for what felt like the 100th time, this time with all three kids in tow. Some annoying person, with no children, had taken the convenient family stall that's like a private bathroom, complete with a chair, a nice toddler chair that I like to strap Quinn into, and it's own sink, so we settled for the handicap stall. There was no way I could fit all of us into one of those 3 by 4 and 1/2 foot jail cells.
When I had Sully settled on the pot, he proceeded to pee all over my hands, his pants (again) and the floor. It was like his little manpart was a fire hose. Blessedly, Quinn was very interested in the flush handle (I don't normally condone any of the kids touching this stuff, but I had sanitizer and at that point in time, it was the LEAST of my worries.) and Eva was keeping close watch on his activites. They stayed clear of the lake of pee on the floor.
I finally got Sully changed, the floor cleaned up, and Theron called to see where we were. I told him to pay (They had held my receipt at Customer Service.) and I would meet him in a minute.
We then headed to the sub shop where Sully and Eva cavorted like monkeys. This is not an exaggeration. They were actually chanting/singing some sort of silly song about how they were monkeys while they hung on the chip racks and wrangled themselves back and forth while I tried to make a coherent order. The woman behind the counter was amazingly sympathetic.
Lunch itself went quite smoothly, but I was appalled at how late it was when we got home at nearly 3! Quiet time in this house starts at 2 and not a minute later, it was unnerving to me that our day, which had seemingly started out so pleasantly and well enough, had dissolved into such a mess.
Quinn was asleep halfway home and, unlike the other two primates in the car when they were his age, he goes right back to sleep when I bring him in and lay him down. Sully and Eva balked at being put in their rooms, but I wasn't about to let my brief, remaing hour of quiet time slip through my hands the way the rest of my day had.
As I type, it's 4:37. That's nearly forty minutes past when I would normally let them out of their mandated captivity. I guess, since they didn't go up until 3, that it doesn't feel that long to them. I'll have to work this to my advantage.
Theron has youth group tonight, which means I'm the lone parent for the majority of the day and I'll be putting the hooligans to bed earlier than they'd like. These days are always so long for me, but I'm learning to enjoy them more. Everyday, Eva makes it evident that she's not a baby anymore. It's encouraging, enlightening and sad all in one fell swoop. But it does make it easier for me to enjoy even the mundane tasks like brushing their teeth and getting them in their pajamas for bed. These days, too, will fly by and someday I'll laugh at how crazy some of my trips to grocery store were, wallet or not wallet, accidents or no accidents.
I was reminded in church on Sunday that God is sovereign, even in our mistakes, even in our accidents. While He is obviously not the author of our sin and He certainly doesn't make mistakes, my mistakes and my sin will be used according to His plan! What a wonderful, comforting, reminder to a mom who makes thousands (and probably more) of mistakes daily! I am NOT in control. And that's a good thing. :)
Preach it, sister. Another comforting thing to think about is that you are not alone. Every single mother has days just like you ;o) That tends to make me feel a bit better.
ReplyDelete