The stress is mounting

I have always had a deep respect for single parents, having spent over 50% of the last six years being a widow to the hospital- I do not understand what single parents go through day-in and day-out, but I have a glimpse of it.

And it is a tough world.

Husband has, oh, you know, the biggest test of his life coming up next week and if he is not at the hospital, he is studying. If he is not studying or sleeping, he is giving me a ten minute respite from the minions we created so that I can get my weekly bath.

Yesterday, Laura texted me and asked if I wanted to go to the park. I promptly responded:

"Sounds Amazing"

The biggest blessing I have had this week is that LMC's class does not have any homework. The teachers took pity on the parents with it being Halloween week. I sent the teacher flowers and a handwritten thank you note on fine Crane stationery. (exaggeration, rather, she received an emoji text- but my heart wanted to do so much more)

Seeing Laura yesterday, I told her that I am so drained that I think I want to cry. She said GO! I've got this, go get some air. Rather, I wanted to stay and hang out with someone taller than 3.5 feet tall. So, I stayed and regaled her with my morning...

Typically, we have to leave the house by 7:40. Which means, we are in the car, backing out of the driveway by 7:46 to get us to school by the obligatory first bell. At 7:30 yesterday, LMC is still in her pajamas and I am feverishly trying to find clothes that fit. Maternity clothes do not come in stages and I am entering the third and final. 7:31, LMC finally finishes brushing her teeth and I am ready to strangle her. Knowing that Bennie is still asleep, I think to myself, "OK- I'm going to run in, grab her- put her in the car... and change her diaper when we get back from school."

LMC does not want a granola bar in the car for breakfast. Rather, she wants something... anything else that does not involve expedience and portability.

I open Bennie's door and immediately know that I am in trouble. Big Trouble.

I don't need to cut the light on to know that there is something in my future that will not make us on time. The room... smells... like a ... sheesh, well... I don't know what it smells like. Let's just leave it at bad. It makes my stomach turn and I know there is no one else who is going to handle this and time is not ticking any slower.

On the changing table, clothes stripped that need to be sterilized, I pick her up in last night's bath towel like a hobo's sack and carry her to the bathroom. There's, ahem, stuff (or any other word that starts with "S" and ends with disaster) everywhere.

We aren't in the car. We aren't backing down the driveway. We are, instead, in the bathroom scrubbing "stuff" off the baby as she is covered head to toe. Apparently, it happened early in her sleep and she didn't cry. Apparently, I kick ass a mother.

Fresh towel in hand, I scoop her up 120 seconds later and head back to the center of my demise- her bedroom. It smells... awful. Putting her back on the changing table, I realize that my stomach has turned one time too many and take off running to the bathroom- not before my arm hit the dirty diaper and it went

s p l a t

onto the floor.

Bennie is hanging out on the changing table. I am expelling last night's supper on the way to the bathroom. LMC is up front crying about a lack of waffle on her plate.

[side note: as I am regaling Husband with this story, he stops me right here and says: You left Bennie on the changing table?    .... insert crickets chirping over the phone from my end here ....  "Yes, yes I did," was about all I could get out. That and last night's supper]

After brushing my teeth, I cover my face with one of the perfectly folded washcloths on the counter and head back into the domain of stinky-ness. Bennie gets carried out under one arm like a sack of taters and a clean diaper is kicked out to the den. Naked sans the diaper- it'll do until I can get LMC off to school.

Walking and kicking with my sack of taters, I am stepping on 655 Cheerios. They are everywhere. In the hallway, the den, the carpet... strewn about. It seemed that LMC had the bright idea that Cheerios were portable, thus she could have those for breakfast.

[side note: As I continue to regale Husband with this tale, he stops he here and says, "So, I'm not coming home to a clean house?" ... nope. Not at all. Not even going to try and pretend that the Cheerios are the only disaster in this house. We carved pumpkins the night before and there might be pumpkin seeds everywhere. Yes, everywhere. My dad helped and thought it would be an excellent idea to tell LMC that we should save every single seed and plant them next year. I looked at him like he had gills and informed LMC otherwise. Tears ensued- from both mother and child.]

We pull into Parochial, two wheels spinning in the air, almost running over a pedestrian, and make the last drop off before the first bell. LMC gets shooed out of the car, water bottles and smushed Goldfish going tumbling out with her.

It was not until about 10:30 did I remember we didn't pack a lunch. By that point, I had cleaned up all bodily fluids from the morning and was sitting on my chaise lounge with bon-bons and the Cabana boy fanning me.

Always thankful that tomorrow is a new day. And afternoons aren't mornings. And that we invested in a large container of Oxiclean. Oh, and that I get my husband back on Wednesday. Very thankful for that.

Comments

Anika said…
Nope, not even a glimpse.