My Monday this week ended very differently than it started. I guess it started at the same time Mr. Husband and I ended our Sunday, because instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour like sensible parents of small children, we decided to end our tour of the Star Wars prequels like crazy teenagers. What better way to bond with one's spouse than watch a movie where you're constantly shouting questions at the screen about plot holes and giant gaps in logic?
2:30 AM: Lady Infant wails from her crib, escalating into angry screaming.
2:45: Mr. Husband and I argue about how to get her to go back to sleep, and decided to get her and try to feed her Kix.
3:30 AM: Lady Infant has had her fill of cereal and water. I guess throwing half of her dinner on the floor instead of eating it caught up to her. Back to the crib with the queen.
6:30 AM: Lady Infant is up again to nurse. Grumpy, groggy Mommy mutters and groans but LI settles down into the crib afterward. So at least now I can....
6:50 AM: Sir Toddler has apparently figured out crystal doorknobs, and requests to "take a nap" in our bed. Kicky kick kick.
7 AM: Mr. Husband has to work a half day to compensate for one of the days he used on our Florida trip, so he gets up and drives away in the car, but not before instructing ST to play quietly in our room.
7-9 AM: "Quiet" is a relative term to a 2 1/2 year old, but he is good as gold so I doze and LI sleeps. Trying to keep her whole family awake all night must be exhausting.
9 AM: Dress and diaper kids. Between the weather, our carless status, and our late start, we are so not making it to playgroup. But I squeeze a shower in before carting the children downstairs so I don't feel so horribly behind.
9:30-11:30: a blur of feeding children, changing diapers, washing dishes, starting laundry, and being followed by a whiny, whiny baby.
11:30 AM: I know we just ate breakfast but the kids are cranky so I face our almost completely empty refrigerator for lunch inspiration. Lady Infant and I have leftover chili; Sir Toddler won't touch the chili so I make him a quesadilla. His loss.
12 PM: Lady Infant can't even anymore so I set up the pack and play in our room and put her down. She screams in protest for two minutes before passing out.
Sir Toddler is being an angel, so I let him stay up. I read him a book but have to keep pulling him off my stomach because? Is the chili not agreeing with me? Ow.
12:30 PM: Mr. Husband calls. He's leaving work to pick us up and go to the car dealership. (The reason for our car purchase is a post of its own, but for now we'll just establish that we are now a two-car family.)
1:10 PM: Both kids are up, in fresh disposable diapers, we've all got coats and shoes, and the diaper bag is packed with kids supplies and our bank check right as Mr. Husband pulls in. We're off! If only I felt better.
2-5 PM: is a special kind of purgatory. There is a kids' playroom but it's full of dirty toys including lots of hidden, tiny Lego pieces that I have to sweep out of Lady Infant's mouth. The kids are being good, but it's hot and airless and I'm still plagued with stomach cramps. Finally, all the paperwork is done and I can take the kids home in our car while Mr. Husband waits for the new(er) car to get inspection stickers and follows.
5 PM: I feel just well enough to drive, but the kids decide to play "screaming feedback loop" until I turn up the classical station to deafening for a few seconds. When I turn it down, Sir Toddler says, "More loud music!" Whatever, just stop screaming at each other. It's the worst way that they love each other.
5:30 PM: I drag the kids into the house, put on Bob the Builder, and curl up on the couch in fetal position while Lady Infant fusses at me. When Mr. Husband gets home, I go to bed and cover myself in blankets while he scours the fridge for quick dinner options (it's nearly empty).
6:30 PM: Mr. Husband has now asked me if I need to see a doctor no fewer than five times, so I consult Dr. Google while he gets the kids ready for bed. Dr. Google persuades me to call the nurse line for my doctor's office.
7:00 PM: I'm told to go to the hospital and be evaluated, and miraculously we're able to find a babysitter right away. Monday playgroup moms for the win.
7:30-10:30 PM: A long game of waiting, providing samples, drinking barium, and having a CAT scan ends with a diagnosis of appendicitis. Whatever, it hurts way less than childbirth. I'm scheduled for the appendectomy at 5 AM the next morning, and admitted for the night.
So there you have it. I woke up grumbling because of sleep deprivation, which in retrospect seems pretty lame since I ended the day needing my first-ever surgery. Maybe that bothered me less because I knew I was going to sleep no matter what? In any case, my not-so-ordinary day certainly put my ordinary trials and struggles in perspective.
Oh, and I'm fine.
You faced it all with bravery and class, dear.
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