This post has a lot of parentheses

To say it’s been a rough morning is putting it lightly.  I went to bed last night reasonably early.  I’ve been up too late the past few nights (Olympics, I’m looking at you.  Why so late?  I love you, but you make me so tired), so I thought I’d get some sleep.

I woke up at 6 pretty easily.  That’s when things stopped being easy. 

At first it was small things.  I put the sippy cup lid on the milk instead of the milk cap.  Hahaha; I laughed it off.  I carried a Ziplock bag across the kitchen to put in the fridge, instead of the mustard bottle.  Hehe, simple mistake.

But, it was after getting Claire out of bed, carrying her to the living room, around the kitchen a few times (while putting bread in the toaster and getting the butter out of the fridge – I don’t just do laps with her in the morning) that I realized it would be a long day.  I put her down to change her diaper and saw this on my shirt:

OK, if you can’t really see it (because my camera is STILL in the shop and the only camera I have is the one on my phone and that one really sucks, and the lighting is bad and wow, my mirror is kinda dirty and my shirt could really use a lint brush), let me break it down for you.  That?  On the left side of my shirt?  Wet.  With pee.  Claire’s diaper leaked (in fact it does this a lot.  Does this mean we need to go up a size?  Or just get overnight diapers?  And if so, could someone tell my husband that?  Because he doesn’t believe me when I say it.  Of course, he also doesn’t go to work with a pee-soaked shirt like I had to, so maybe I’ll make him get her out of bed tomorrow and see how it feels.). 

Ahem.

If you can’t really see it, here’s an artist’s rendering of how it looked:

OK.  Shut up.  I suck at Paint.  Anyway, as you can clearly see, the ENTIRE side of my shirt is wet.  Why I didn’t notice this while carrying Claire around ALL MORNING, I’ll never know.  But, I did.

 

 

 

Fine.  I didn’t have time to look for another outfit, we had to leave.  We didn’t have any coffee cups with lids clean, so I had to take one that didn’t have a lid.  On the way to the babysitter’s, JR was trying to put his mug in the cupholder, but it wouldn’t fit because it had a handle (and my cupholders are dumb. You can’t put two cups in there if one has a handle).  He was acting all annoyed that he couldn’t put his cup in there so he could tie his shoes, so I grabbed my mug out of the cupholder so he could put his damn cup in, and tie his shoes already!

And splashed the entire mug of coffee down my leg and onto my foot.  And seat.  And floormat.

I didn’t take a picture because I was so annoyed (oh, and driving.  Safety first and all).  But again, I present you with an artist’s rendering.

Where the brown is hot, creamy coffee that’s now seeping into my seats and underware.  And the black is pee, which is still not dried.  And I KNOW!  I suck at Paint.

 

 

 

 

 

I think I’m going to market a new fragrance for Mom’s.  It’ll be called B.P.A.C (Baby Pee And Coffee).

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

2 responses to “This post has a lot of parentheses

  1. Wow. I would laugh, but I know the feeling only too well. Document this time well though, because when it’s time for you to go into the nursing home and Claire is complaining about taking care of you, you can point to these times and let her know that payback? It’s a bitch.

  2. ash

    wow. you mamas are great 🙂 love the illustrations!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s