I work from home on Tuesdays and Thursays while Daddy teaches at the local university. It's always a bit crazy as I try to stay focused on the laptop, make phonecalls, etc admist the normal chaos created by four kids four and under. However, this morning was particularly crazy.
First, some background: Gretters used to be well on her way to being fully potty trained--- until Baby E came along, and then Gretters totally digressed back, refusing the potty, staying in wet diapers, the works. Now that the baby is two months old, we thought it might be time to get back to it, so we bought her a potty that sings. She loves hearing the various songs and seems to have interest in being a big girl again. But there are still accidents, of course.
Back to this morning. After having already changed into three different outfits, Gretters wants to wear Tinker Bell Panties. I explain she has to keep Tinker Bell dry. She says "I promise," which is pretty cute to hear a two year old say, even though you kind of know that she doesn't know what it fully means. Most 60 year old politicians don't know what it means, either. Anyway, she was doing a good job keeping the panties dry, but was seriously driving me crazy coming up to me every 10 minutes having stripped herself naked and asking (rather, screaming) for a new dress to wear. I explain to her I'm working, and that there will be no more outfit changes. I get her a book to read and I think I'm set.
A few minutes later I hear "I peed, Mommy, I peed," only she wasn't in the bathroom. So off I go to clean up her legs, take off her panties, clean up the puddle and move on. Then she wants to use the potty. I take her to the bathroom and sit her on the little potty, only she isn't sitting on it straight and all the urine squirts out on the floor, partially sopped up by the bathroom rug, partially sopped up by the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. And of course, she needs a new dress, because she got pee on that too. Another outfit later, I clean up the mess and get back to work.
I make a bit of progress on the project I"m working on, when all three girls come to me telling me they're starving. It's noon by that time, but I had just given them a snack at 11. I have failed to mention that I had yet to eat or drink anything myself up to that point. I was also still in my underwear (maternity underwear because all my normal underwear is sitting in a pile of dirty clothes in the bathroom, now soaking up Gretter's pee). My hair is still wet from the quick 5 minute shower I had taken earlier. I think you get the picture.
I stop working, get up and put a pot of turkey chili on the stove that I had made for dinner last night. Then I hear Gretters say "I pooped, Mommy... I pooped." Lucky for me I had put a diaper on her with the last outfit change. Unlucky for me, Gretters pulled off her diaper and was examining her poop. I get her cleaned up, put on yet another outfit (now you know why there is a pile of dirty clothes in the bathroom), and get back to work when I hear the smoke alarm go off.
Yes, there on the stove sits a smoking pot of chili that I had forgotten about because of the poop mess. The whole kitchen is filled with smoke and my eardrums are starting to throb as I try and figure out how to take the alarm apart. The girls are crying, the alarm seems to be getting louder, and there I am standing on a chair in my maternity underwear with wet hair, trying to destroy the fire alarm before I lose my mind.
It's an hour later and I am dressed, the girls are fed, I am fed, and the only hint of the chaos from this morning is the smell of smoke that still permeates the house, despite having the windows open. Oh yes, and there is that lovely pile of dirty clothes in the bathroom that has almost doubled in size from just this morning's events.
And, that, my friends, is a day in the life of a mother.
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