I need a whole to recover in...

How can so much happen in one day? Well apparently all you need is to be me and my household.
My toe is still throbbing after breaking in while off camping. No big deal as long as I get some ibuprofen and a couple of glasses of wine. So this makes it difficult at 11am while trying to feed the kids and get the preschooler off to school. But, I suck it up and move on.
Shortly after I drop off my preschooler I get rear ended by an uninsured motorist and for some reason, some how our registration etc. is in an big white envelope...at home!
Great, wait around and get no help beautiful! The entire time the baby is trying to run out into traffic, my toes is trying to double in size and I am supposed to be on a call. So exciting.
I finally get readjusted, am so behind in camping cleaning but we all made it home. I get a call to interview and cannot find anyone to watch the rug rats while I'm gone. Like I need motivation not weasel out of working outside the home. I rather get my business running but my husband has this weird fascination with having enough money to get the business running and keep the kids fed, rent paid etc.
Later that evening my mom figures to someone to babysit the kids- problems solved, the day is looking up. Hubby comes home, kids are fed and are being put in the shower. There we are all in the bathroom withe the monkey in the shower and the toddler trying to get in. Monkey doesn't want the toddler in and they begin fighting about it. Bam! Before our eyes but not seeing anything the monkey falls, hits his chin on the tub wall and splits it open.
So 3 year old Monkey and I are back in the ER for 3 hours getting 3 stitches. We are there so late that he calms down, plays and falls asleep after his stitches while I was still waiting for paper work. I said back because the cracked arm of his a couple of months ago.
Next time Daddy is taking him to the ER, I don't want CPS called because of my little dare devil.
So, the lesson plan and work I needed to do for the interview- pushed off, dinner doesn't get eaten, sleep needed. As soon as I get home baby wakes up crying and is up not allowing me to eat a full snack. Thanks.
This morning the baby drops the remote on my broken toe, the monkey won't eat and I still haven't written my lesson plan for my interview in 4 hours.
But, I'm still hoping for good luck...
while typing this blog my toddler pooped through his diaper and pj's, down his leg, and touched it. Yum. While cleaning him a raisin fell out of his dirty diaper- would that be a raisin from breakfast or a digested poop covered raisin??????
I need a hole to crawl into and recover and have a coffee. And by coffee I mean tequila.

Seriously- Can I have a minute?

Everyday -all the time same old same old-feed, clean, drive around, entertain, feed, change, bathe, cook, etc. etc.
I nag about not having time to myself.
I nag to my husband who will never get it.
I nag to my children who don't even know what I am saying.
I complain about not getting time to myself-
Monday I spent the entire day attached to my baby. Well he was attached to me and by baby I mean whining 1 year old. That high pitched whine that makes you want to jump off of a high rise onto busy Manhattan streets just to escape the noise.

*Probably the same way my husband feels about my nagging- but I have to share the wealth- right?*

The baby whined in front of me each time I had to go to the bathroom, while playing outside, while I was on the phone with my grandmother, in the car, in the play room, taking brother to preschool, you name it he did it-ALL day.
When I turned on my only sense of escape- my shower- I jumped in and there he was pulling back my curtain whining trying to get in head first.
"Give mommy a break, it's my shower" I heard myself shouting at him.
That lead to full blown crying, which lead to me picking him up and letting him join my shower. So annoying. My shower is sacred- it's the place where my brain actually works correctly and I think through things that need to get done.
Instead the baby stayed too close to me so I couldn't stand without falling. I would scoot him over and he would crawl back and whine.
Which lead to:
"STOP THE DAMN WHINING!"
Cry, cry, cry- bad mom, worst shower ever, picked him up, put him down, he huddled on the floor of the shower like a turtle.
I ended up shaving outside the shower with him slapping my ankles and unrolling my entire toilet roll.

Really- just 1 shower- is that so difficult.

With my husband working locally for a few weeks he comes home ever night- helpful or?
So when the husband got home what happened? I tried to hand the kids over but it only lasted 2 minutes. I expected him to bathe the kids and put them to bed- he put 1 to bed and left to the gym. Great if I needed half help. It's not like I was going to take that time for a 15 minutes break or anything (God forbid) just going to clean the dinner mess and fold laundry.

Maybe I never get a break and my family recognizes that I should and will surprise me with a 2 week escape on a island with no phones or children? Maybe!
Or just 1 shower in peace! Maybe?

The stink

The heat has left our house with the most foul smell that we cannot place. Our guesses- dead thing somewhere, garbage can from hell or mystery diaper. My husbands great idea was to finally take the trash out- but the smell followed and lingered en route. So, he decided to take the trash can out and hose it down. We have a front yard, we have a backyard and we have neighbors. Where does he decide to move the can... the front yard. And it's been out there all day. Do you hear banjos?

Wedding Day

Yesterday we traveled up north to a family wedding. It was already hot the moment we sat in the car (10am). We drove in relative peace, for 2 hours, (thank you God for car DVD players and portable food/ sippy cups). The wedding was beautiful, the guests were friendly, the bar was open. My boys, both dirty blond and gorgeous were all over the place, but with so much family around it was not so bad. My sister in law kept my monkey busy by asking him to go on walks with her throughout the hall- in which everyone asked if he was her son (she's blond and gorgeous so it's understandable). When she would take the baby, same question. Never once when I had the children did anyone ever ask if they were mine. Odd? (Let's just say I'm not blond...). Even when we were together- they asked her. Yeah, I could've ditched the kids with her and pretended that I still a young newlywed without kids. Wait- why didn't I do that?

Oh Crap!

Again today, poop was to set the mood of our day.
After breakfast I took the baby for a diaper change. I put my hand inside the waist of his pants to ease them off his overfilled self when something felt warm and squishy. What ever could it be? I removed clump hand of poop. So disgusting. Why does this always happen? Last night I gave him a bath- this is an immediate flag for a poop catastrophe for the following day. But, I need to bathe the kid sometime.
It got all over his pants, legs and socks. It some how missed his onesie entirely. How is this possible?
Next thing I new he was kicking his legs up and his hands were smattered with crap. Every time he moved he got more crap on his hands, legs and socks. I couldn't keep up or figure out how it was happening. I even soiled the wipes container trying to get him clean quickly.
I cleaned him, undressed him and took him to my shower.
I dried him and wrapped him in a towel and set back to his room.
When we got to the changing table it was still spotted with poo. So, trying to keep the clean baby clean I quickly wiped down the changing table before setting him down.
I thought all was well- the poop flinging was over. That is when my monkey stands between my room and theirs points to the floor and says, "Look Mommy there's gigantic dinosaur poop on the floor." I had to do a double take. I slowly sauntered up to the blob of crap on the floor. Yes, indeed-y my baby made a gigantic dinosaur poop. But how did it get on the floor by the door? Was it stuck to him on the way to the room from the kitchen? From the shower? It just didn't make any sense. The changing table is 5 steps away from the door- how did it hold on so long? Was I touching it? It's like a barn this house. I just need some hay to scatter on the floor. It might save me some time on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor. And with our carpet- fibers are already falling out by walking on it- it totally loves a scrubbing.
And at the opposite side of our day- no more poo accidents. But, that hay would have come in handy. My sister was in the living room, my mom holding the baby and pacing through our small house, I in the boys room getting their clothes ready for tomorrow and the monkey sitting in my bed waiting for his breathing treatment. I heard him talking about medicine and yell to him to wait for me- knowing that he can't get to it on his own. When I got in there I didn't notice anything until after his treatment had begun.
I walk to my bathroom to throw away a container and ...cross a lake of baby Tylenol. On my sink an empty container of his brothers medicine. He attempted to take it as his own- luckily he spilled it before he could add it to his machine. I thought I had tightened it and set it far enough back so it was out for reach. I was very wrong. So, again I was on my hands and knees scrubbing up carpet. I couldn't believe the little man had done that- he had the right timing- there were essentially 3 sets of 'mommy like' eyes on him and we all missed it. What a gigantic dinosaur poop!

Another poopy day!

Today was quite a day. My 3 year old some how ended up with pneumonia. Great! Just what I needed- more sickness. Week 1 -about a month ago- the baby got an ear infection.
The following-week 2- we drove to Reno, played with friends in Tahoe, and had a great time in the area but 6 hours to and 5 hours fro with crying, whining kids was a personal infection of my own.
Week 3 the baby gets a double ear infection that turned into a chest infection 2 days later.
And now here we are at week 4: What do we get but a 3 year old with pneumonia. Unbelievable.
I had no idea. I actually told the kid that when he is sick he needs to look and act like it. I took him to the doctor because he said it felt like a little rock was in his ear- so I was thinking ear infection not serious chest infection. He was running! Good God I hope I notice if he ever gets anything more serious.
Here we are, inside the house trying to recuperate. I made lunch and the three year old went to the bathroom. I told him that his lunch was ready when he was and went about my way. The baby was busy snacking and it was a bit of sunshine in the dark day.
Then bathroom boy flushes and walks out, pants around his knees. I get up to meet him in the hall and he puts on a fake face as if he was going to cry and says, "Mommy I got poop on my shirt." And he meant it- he got it on the FRONT of his shirt, scratches of it on both legs, a bit in his underwear and on his left hand. I'm thinking -what the hell got into the toilet. Not much, as I see there is crap on the seat in ways I've not seen him do before.
So I take his clothes off, careful not to get an shit on me-and the baby begins to cry from his chair in the kitchen not knowing where his family has gone to.
I usher the now naked but poopy kid into my shower.
As he is waiting for the water to go from ice to sauna he is stamping his feet. I over react and yell at him to stop- so of course he does it again and gets crap on my rug. Great. Into the shower he goes and as I clean his butt mounds of shit cake my hand and fall all over my bathtub floor. I start screaming "You're supposed to wipe first!" And the smarty pants that he is responds with: "I didn't know that." What? Why did he flush? The crap was on his body and he didn't wipe what the hell happened in there? He is potty trained so this was a tad bizarre.
Why doesn't this ever happen on Daddy's watch? I obviously need to leave him with the kids more often.
I' m hoping next week will read something like this: Mommy's birthday week- the house is perfect! No sickness, no crying , no whining, all smiles and fun. I'm thinking it will read like this:Mommy get's shit in her hair as a 30th birthday wish from her boys before throwing up on her in a restaurant where everyone was already staring because her kids are crazy. Yes, Yes, They need more Daddy time!

Everyday

I just can't believe that a good day now includes being pooped on, having dinner flung on,getting a front tooth chipped and making a baby cry while holding him down to give him a breathing treatment. This is day, and everyday; it's my world and it is the norm. No yelling, spanking, kicking, screaming or anything that really stuck out as bad or difficult. I got to play on the floor with blocks, animals and fire engines. I didn't get mad at the tooth, the pants being dirty or the poop. It's the weirdest feeling.
On the other hand, working in a poop free environment is looking better everyday!