Saturday, June 2, 2012

Potty Talk

Do you remember when, if you had to go potty, you just could? You could just drop everything and take your time?
Yeah. Me neither.

My husband is out of town for a few days, and while I hate being the only adult in charge, it helps me to appreciate all the little things he does around the house. Take tonight, for instance. It's time to go to bed. I have bottles that need washing, so while I have a load in the microwave steam-bag, I decide I should probably go poop use the potty, since this will probably be my only chance. Who knows how long I'll have to lay perfectly still with my arms trapped beneath two tiny little bodies before I can gnaw them off and make my escape slip away.
On my way to the bathroom, I hear the humidifier in the bedroom. (It has a super-loud motor. Like a diesel generator. By my bed.) We got the humidifier for when Baby had RSV and was sick for a month. And then she caught something new for another month. Then something new for a third month. I no longer know what it's like to have a baby without a nose full of snookies.
Anyway, it needs the water refilled every night. So I head over to do that. And trip over books pulled off our bookshelves for stories last night. So I stop and shovel them back onto the shelf. Then 3 round trips to refill the large cup we use for the humidifier water. As I'm doing that, I trip over the cats, who apparently haven't been fed for three days. Oops. So I feed the cats. By now the first batch of bottles is done, so I rinse and steam another batch.
On my way to the bathroom (finally!) I get elbowed aside by a herd of pygmy elephants my darling child. "Mama. 'Scuze me. I hafta go poop." *sigh* Maybe I'll get my chance tomorrow. After I pick up Hubby from the airport...

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