#theendofdiaperscouldbenear-- (I already explained above).
#sixyearsstraight-- We have been in some type of diaper (we had a pull-up period with Summer before Layla was born) since 2007. I would really love to do the math as to how many diapers I have actually changed (clearly not enough, considering I let my child get to this point the other day:
Terrible, I know.
#ParentTMI-- I realize that no one else really cares about my child's genitourinary system accomplishments, and I figured more than ever that no one would want to see what was actually in the potty. It is just a milestone that felt necessary to document. Non-parents out there... just wait.
#ihatethewordpotty-- I really really really do. Yet I use it 12309885 times a day. Like it is one of my least favorite words in the world. I cringe when people say it. But it is a major part of my life... as soon as everyone can say the word "bathroom," that horrid word will be banned from my home.
So I know it very well may be months more of diaper-changing, but just to know that there is this potential end in sight is just so.incredibly.exciting. (Yet sad. I'm very nearly 97% sure).
From our schedule this past weekend, It came to my attention that we really haven't experienced an extensive amount of combined and conflicting activities. It hit full force on Saturday, much to my stress and annoyance. Matt had a softball tournament, with games at 8, 9 and 11am on Saturday. Their performance would determine if/when their games would be on Sunday. (Sidenote... why the tournament started at 8am, I will never know. An hour later makes a HUGE difference). So Saturday morning rolls around and Matt's alarm goes off. Since these were the first softball games of the season, he did not have all of his normal clothing out. Now I love him with all my heart, but as he was opening every.single.drawer in our entire bedroom in search, I had evil, somewhat violent thoughts towards my dear hubby. Add several times in and out of the house (the alarm beeps each time), and the garage door opening twice (I never asked him what he forgot), waking up on the wrong side of the bed is a bit of an understatement. I really shouldn't complain... with my insomnia/bizarre sleeping habits, I keep the poor man awake far too often. Love you honey :o)
Already tired and annoyed with the day, I got up, showered, prepped Summer for ballet (remembered again! On a roll!) and got the other two dressed. As we huffed and puffed up the two flights of stairs and entered the studio, tantrum #1 occurs from dear Miss Olivia. They have a giant dish of lollipops, which she zones in on in seconds. I swear she has a radar for anything sweet. I contain her as we pass the dish, get Summer ready, and nearly sprint past said-dish to leave. Her class is only an hour, but the studio is five minutes from our house so I go home and have an oh-so enjoyable 30 minutes of attempted bike riding in the surprisingly windy but sunny outdoors. I load them back into the car, already regretting my earlier promise of walking down to the bagelry (in the same shopping center) after we pick Summer up. Tantrum #2 occurs at the original location: Lollipop dish. I manage to get all of us out the door, down the stairs, and we start walking over to the bagelry. We are just steps away from the door when I realize I had left my wallet in the car... and I had parked in the lot behind the shopping center. My little crew turns around and we trudge back, what feels like a mile, to my car in the back. Instead of repeating that long, windy haul, I throw them all in the car and park in the closest spot I could get to the bagelry. I grab my wallet, unload the crew yet again, and we go in... only to be met with the line all the way to the door. I pull a mommy no-no and renege my prior offer. This just wasn't going to happen today. So we leave. Some whining occurs in the car but it really could have been a worse reaction.
We get home, and now I am in the dilemma of our next activity that we had really not planned properly for. Layla had a birthday party, but Matt wasn't going to make it home before I had to leave. It was at a BounceU (giant moonbounces everywhere). I know from birthday party experience that there is a specific number of kids that you can have, so bringing Summer and Olivia was just not something I was going to do. Like I said, we really did not plan well. I'm actually not sure what planet we were on. I am frantically calling and texting people seeing if I could get coverage for the girls. What I finally ended up doing was driving to the softball fields where my sister was, dropping Summer and Olivia off there, then taking Layla to her party. I grabbed coats, snacks, sippy cups, the gift, blankies, hangers, jackets, extra clothes, puke bags... you name it, I believe I put it in my car.
The rest of the day went much more smoothly.
What made all of the madness so completely worth it was getting in the car with Layla after her party. She said to me, "Mom. I had SO much fun." For the middle child that I don't get to spend enough one-on-one time with, I was thrilled. She even got me to go down the slide with her a few times.
We grilled out that evening (yay outside!!!!) and thankfully Matt's games on Sunday did not start until 12. I actually took all the girls to the (first) game where unfortunately the major events included some type of flying insect getting stuck inside my shirt (stung me three times!! I have a pic, but I will spare you) and Olivia being her usual crazy self and actually pouring gravel and dirt on top of her head. Just a taste of what awaits me during the regular softball season...
My major "Aha" moment this week occurred when I randomly found out that I missed my day to bring in snack for Layla's class... two weeks ago. And also when the only reason I knew to bring in plastic eggs filled with treats on Monday was because of a lovely email reminder on Sunday. Mission Get-Your-Life-Together-If-You-Can't-Handle-It-Now-You-Have-No-Hope-For-The-Future begins now.