This week was our third straight week at Story Time. The day started of wonderfully as Sam slept in until 9:10 am, which means I didn't get my sorry ass out of bed until 9:09 am. We also decided to go to the 10:30 a.m. class this week since the 11 o'clock class is filled with all of the other slacker moms who can't make it anywhere on time with a baby in tow. Oh fear not, I sincerely belong in that group, but I was going to make a superhuman effort to get my kid dressed and fed, the dog let out and fed, my teeth brushed and hair thrown up in a pony tail while donning a wrinkled outfit and remembering to pack the diaper bag and close the garage door - all in less than an hour. Can you say ambitious? Can you say stupid? Can you say cluster fuck?
Amazingly, I made it to the library without a minute to lose. I sped through school zones and rolled through stop signs to make it happen, but hey what do you want from me? My kid needs his 20 minutes of mom-wrestling and bubbles! I found my seat on the floor, sweaty and disheveled but ready to switch to sing-along-mom mode. Two minutes in and we were singing the "Jump jump went the little green frog" song and I was lifting Sam in quick succession to simulate a jump, all the while trying not to grunt or pull a muscle. My kid has bones made of lead. About that time, I had noticed an odor emanating from Sam's direction and spotted on his shorts the telltale sign of a diaper blow out. So, off I went to the car to change his diaper and his outfit. We made it back just in time for the end of Story Time with the grand bubble finale. I was ready for lunch. And I was still sweating.
I met my two other friends at a local restaurant for lunch. The three of us were seated in a corner, each holding our children in one arm while trying to rearrange high chairs and floppy seat covers. At this point I was seriously ready for a vodka tonic, but instead broke out the Cheerios to feed to my ravenous son. Lunch was as it always is with 2 toddlers and 3 moms and a pushy waitress; a true cluster fuck. Sam was either reaching for rolled silverware, throwing Cheerios on the floor or swatting at the mouth-bound spoon filled with sweet potatoes. Frustrating to say the least. I often laugh at our efforts to be social. It is comical to me that I try to get out of the house to have some adult interaction and meanwhile I'm desperately trying to feed my distracted baby and imploring him to use his "inside voice."
Halfway through lunch, we had a surprise visit from Rob. It is always a pleasure to see my husband during the day, especially when we run into each other unexpectedly. He popped by the table to say hi before he and his coworker casually walked to their table to enjoy a peaceful, baby-free lunch. Meanwhile, I'm left with a screaming kid who WANTS HIS DADDY GET OUT OF MY FACE MOMMY YOU ARE SECOND BEST TO THE DAAAAADDDDDYYYYY!!!!! Thanks, honey. Please stop by anytime.
Lunch went downhill from there. All three of the kids were tired and antsy. My girlfriends and I had to wait in line to pay the bill at the register, hoping the cashier would hurry the fuck up, my kid is about to scream bloody murder if I don't get him out of that highchair please. Minutes later, I was reaching over the table and heaving Sam up when I knocked a glass of ice water over which spilled all over the table and floor. The restaurant was full, there was no one around to even tell that I was the culprit, so I said screw it and left. Yeah, left my friend standing at the table as she was mopping up MY mess. Nice, Shan. I guiltily headed back to help her when Sam really started to howl so I told her to leave it and did just that.
I made it to the car, popped a pacifier in Sam's mouth and headed home. Oh yeah, and I was still sweating.
It's amazing what us stay-at-home-moms will do for a little socialization. I don't think I'll be leaving the house again for a while.
0 comments:
Post a Comment