And then there was a giant floater

My day can be summed up in the baby cries that I can hear over the monitor right now. Just a tiny sob. Not quite awake and not quite loud or long enough to warrant me moving from my chair. Just enough to remind us that it’s not all happiness. It was one of those days. Not nearly as productive as I’d hoped, but good enough that I don’t call it a failure.

And then I came home. I came home to ingredients. A husband putting aside ingredients for supper. The meal I was planning on making. Then we got into an awkward rythmn of mixing things and picking up a whiny toddler and dumping things into a skillet and reading the recipe. It was frustrating and difficult and annoying. It was not the pleasant cooking experience I was looking forward to. It was complicated. Time was ticking away. Ticking away towards a toddler meltdown and ticking away towards my husband’s departure. In the end, Maximus very much enjoyed the almond chicken stir-fry, Bryan left to play volleyball before eating, and I cleaned up the mess that was my kitchen. After the unsettling cooking experience of two cooks in the kitchen, I knew I couldn’t leave the mess until after bedtime. It would only add to the unsettling feeling I already had. Throw in a little plate and milk throwing and a dog who was very interested in the toddler meal. I couldn’t figure out how to #win.

As is usually the case, when I finally decided I could try to eat too…Maximus was all done. And given my night, there was obviously no hanging out in the high chair while I ate. So, I cleaned him up and put him down. Only to have him whine and want back up. So I did what most moms do, I ate standing up. I ate half of a portion and entertained Maximus while doing so.

Then we tried to read books. Which is actually like being stuck on a broken record. We’ve been reading the same four books for a couple of weeks now. Yah! {Sarcasm} Except tonight there was little interest in actually reading them and more interest in turning the pages at what can only be classified as a toddler pace. No ryme or reason to the page turning. Given my current state, I needed a little “control” of my environment. I know, that’s funny when you’re talking about a toddler.

I decided since I needed to change a diaper, we were going to start bath time. We’d just spend a longer time playing in the bath tub. I turned the water on and he peed in the tub. I drained the water and started over. I turned my back to shut the door and then there was poop. Then a little while later he was standing up playing and he peed again. As I was laughing to myself and wondering how the universe can have such a good sense of humor…well, it got even better. This baby child of mine decided he wasn’t done pooping. And he pooped. I mean POOPED. And then he cried when he saw it floating in the tub because he had pooped A LOT. Because he pooped so much that it scared him. Out he came again. After cleaning the tub and refilling it, again, we tried one final time. Because now he needed to be scrubbed. I shudder thinking about what that diaper would have looked like. It would not have been an easy feat for one person. The rest of my night was uneventful. {Thankfully!} Lotion, pjs, Christmas songs, and bedtime.

I thought about throwing in the towel on my day. Afterall, it had become that day. Instead, I put on my running shoes and headed downstairs to the treadmill. I made myself spend 15 minutes on there. Then I spent 10 minutes doing crunches, because I’m starting to look like I did when I was carrying this child inside my belly. Ick! To make myself feel even better, I watched an episode of Dexter. All of those things seemed to help make my day better, but I think I really needed a good sweat.

In hindsight it doesn’t seem like it was that bad of a night. But, while I was experiencing it I could think of many ways that it could be going better. Maybe I should have taken a picture of the giant poop in the bath tub. I’m sure that will be funny to my husband or anyone else who didn’t have to live through it.

Here’s to hoping that tomorrow is a little less eventful…and a lot more warm and fuzzy.

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