The title is self explanatory, but I’ll give you the details anyway.
To truly understand how I felt about yesterday morning, I need to take you back to Sunday night. I did all of the dishes and emptied the sink, cleaned up the kitchen and my boyfriend put away all of the toys. Then I packed the toddler’s lunch, set out both boy’s clothes for Monday along with my own, gathered all of my work things and set them by the door. I even prepacked the diaper bag. With everything taken care of that I normally do in the morning, I went to sleep believing that my Monday morning was going to go smoothly.
I set myself up for disappointment.
The baby barely slept between 11:00 and 2:00, somewhere in the midst of that a potty break brought the toddler out of his room and rather than go back to his bed he snuggled up to me. I would have loved every second of our midnight snuggle session, except I got jabbed in the boob and head butted in the nose. I sent him back to bed.
The last time the baby woke up I nudged my boyfriend to get up with him, unfortunately it was actually 5:30 in the morning at this point and he didn’t get back to sleep even when the baby did. An hour later he went off as my little alarm clock as well and the toddler came lurking into the living room asking if it was morning time soon after. From there, my morning should have gone off without a hitch, after all everything was done and ready to go. Instead of running smoothly, the baby spent the morning dumping the toddler’s cereal all over the floor and pooping his pants repeatedly. While the toddler spent his morning dumping toys on the floor in an attempt to entertain the baby. I tried to get everyone fed and dressed but my work phone kept ringing forcing me to leave the room and the children unattended. Every re-entrance to the room left me facing a new surprise disaster that needed tending to.
By the time we were all ready to go I had already cleaned up a dozen unexpected messes, practically force fed two kids (not literally, don’t call CPS) and I was exhausted. Once I got the kids into the car I was under the impression that my morning struggles were over, I hadn’t even forgotten anything inside that forced me to turn the car around. However, my little stinkers had a different plan. The toddler dropped an important new toy that needed retrieving, the baby threw his bottle and the heat vents were blowing cold air on the kids for some reason. I pulled over three times.
After pulling into the babysitter’s driveway, I reassured myself that my Monday morning had already met every challenge that it possibly could. All I had to do was get the boys inside, give them kisses and hugs then get to work.
Toddler – out of the car, heading to the front door. Check.
Baby – out of the car, wrapped in a blanket. Check.
Baby spit up – suddenly in my hair and on my clothing. Check…