Little Stinker

I wonder how many of my stories start out with ‘the morning started out good.’ It really did, I was on track for time and, thanks to some new products, my hair was looking pretty good. I wanted to be a few minutes early to work today because my 7 o’clock patient is stern. She’s an attorney and she’s stern and when I walk by her in the waiting room at 6:59 AM, I feel like she’s looking at me like “Hey slacker, why can’t you get to work on time?”

My planned departure time is 6:25 am which means I actually leave around 6:30 AM. At 6:20 AM I had myself and the older boys in our coats and shoes. I pulled Colin out of the exersaucer to discover poo halfway up his back. Colin has only one kind of bowel movement: extreme blowouts. I can’t remember a time in recent months when the poo has been contained in the diaper.

I remained calm and took him to the changing table. By the time I managed to wriggle him out of his onesie, the poo was all over his arm. I’m really starting to question the wisdom of onesies, perhaps babies should alway be dressed in clothes that zip or button in the front to make for easier removal. I started to clean him up with wipes and then realized I was at a crossroads. I had two crappy options (pun intended), and I had to choose which one was the least crappy. I could either half-ass clean my sweet baby with wipes and hope that there is no poo hiding underneath one of his chins or I could give him a proper bath and face the stern face of Ms. Seven AM when I show up late. I chose the latter.

I gave him perhaps the quickest bath ever. I was still wearing my coat. When I pulled him out of the water, I looked at my watch, it was 6:30 AM. I gave up any hope of getting to work on time and dressed Colin in another onesie that read, “Little Stinker.” By that point, I was sweating and my clothes were wet from the bathwater (how does one remove a baby from a bath without soaking themselves?) and my hair was no longer looking so great.

I tried to hurry the kids out the door into the van. Sully sat on the steps and refused to move because I couldn’t find his gloves, the same ones that 20 minutes before, he refused to put on. I put Colin and Brady in the van and had to go back and carry Sully out kicking and screaming. Just as I was preparing myself for a very loud ride to my sister-in-law’s, I reached in my pocket and found the gloves. It was a small miracle and it was enough to keep me going.

I dropped the kids off and got back on the road to work. I did not break any traffic laws except maybe turning left on a yellow light that was more like a red light by the time I went through it. I was walking into my building WITH my patient at 6:58 AM. How is it even possible that I got to work at almost the EXACT same time that I always do with the same bad hair?

Sometimes by the time I get to work, I feel like I’ve already had a full day.

About jillo31

I always wanted to write the great American novel. I've come to the realization that that may not happen. Instead, I'm going to write about my life as a working mom to three boys. I figure in ten years, I won't remember what these days are like. I want to record my everyday victories and struggles.
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