Every now and then, we experience moments as parents where we say to ourselves something along the lines of “so this is my life now, huh?” I’m not really sure who we’re saying this to, maybe some all knowing parenting God that’s most definitely laughing his/her ass off at us, but nevertheless, this is our general declaration. It’s not necessarily a complaint, but more like an acceptance, a shrug of well okay then, let’s do it.
I had one of those finer moments today. This morning we were in Apollo Beach, FL visiting with Pete’s parents and siblings and our niece and nephews. It was the last day of a long weekend and Norah decided 5:15 was a fine time to start it. We had to be on our way to the airport around 8 AM, so there was no morning nap in sight and needless to say, by the time we arrived back at the house (noonish), we were all exhausted. After some lunch we settled in for family naptime. Within 15 minutes or so of getting Norah down, Pete and I were both snoring our way into some serious afternoon sleep.
Two hours later I awoke with a start from a rather strange dream to the sound of Norah crying. I was clearly in whatever stage of sleep it is where you’re pretty much dead to the world because I felt severely medicated and delirious. Somehow I managed to get out of bed and stumble down the hall to Norah’s room and found her looking not much more coherent. But alas she was crying because, well, she had finally pooped for the day and that woke her up. All good. A two hour nap is nothing to sneeze at. Still foggy, I got her out of her crib and got ready to face the stink of all stinks. I removed her diaper and set it to the side to prepare for the 6 wipe mess (that’s no joke, folks). It was at this moment, as I began to regain a bit more consciousness, that I realized just how badly I had to pee. No matter how upset Norah seems to be when she wakes me up, ESPECIALLY in my current pregnant state, I always make sure to pee before I go get her. Not this time, my friends. That’s just how out of it I was. Commence pee pee dance. Bouncing around holding myself while I attempted to finish cleaning Norah one handed, I bumped the poopy diaper. Down it went to the floor, and I’ll give you one guess how a poopy diaper will land 10 out of 10 times…that’s right! Poop side down. Well, I couldn’t do much about it then because I was about to pee my pants and didn’t really care to add to the mess on the floor, so I finished Norah, ran with her to the bathroom to relieve myself and then brought her to our room where Da-da was still in bed. “Babe, I need you to keep her happy, I’ve got something to take care of.” As soon as I put her down she began to cry again, but I had to go get that poop up, and hurried to grab the paper towels and spray cleaner. I’m in her room wiping up the squished turds (which by the way also managed to hit a book lying open on the floor) and Norah is standing at the baby gate crying incessantly. “PETE! I need you to make her stop crying so I can finish cleaning up this POOP!!” Because somehow her crying was hindering me. And there it was. The moment. “So this is my life now, huh?”
At lease we can laugh about these things.
Elderland out. XO.