OK, so this story might give a little more insight into a typical day at my house. (Actually, as crazy as my life is, my days aren't usually as bad as the one I am about to describe.)
On Thursdays I babysit my 2 year-old niece, Ladybug, who is 4 weeks to the day younger than my Tiggly. My parents, who live locally, like to see us when we are all together....what could be more pleasing than seeing their 3 grandchildren? Seeing a fourth, of course!
Today's plan was to meet for a late breakfast at Cracker Barrel at 11, then I was going to take the kids to the pool. By quarter of eleven, I was pretty sure I was going to be late, so I called my parents and changed the time to 11:15. But I didn't actually end up leaving my house until 11:15 because when I went to get my wallet I remembered it was in my husband's car, which was with him at work. No big deal, except for two things: my gas tank was on empty and I had no money for breakfast. Not to worry....my mom is always good for lending a few bucks. I brought my checkbook so I could make a withdrawal from the bank that is my mother and we set out on our trip.
In all the confusion, I forgot to verify that Tiggly's shoes were left in the car last night and when we got to Cracker Barrel, I realized they were not. Poppy, my 70 year-old dad, has bad knees and big tummy so he's really not too good for hip-holding a toddler, but he proceeded to carry her like a football into the restaurant while I parked the car. He plopped her in a high chair, Ladybug next to her, and we looked over the menu and discussed our plans to go to the pool afterwards. The pool? Oh yeah, guess that means I should have packed Bigs' bathing suit... but I didn't. So I texted my friend with a daughter the same age who lives close to the pool and, God love her, she offered to put one in her mailbox that I could pick up on my way by her house.
The meals showed up on the table and while I buttered, cut, poured syrup on, and served pancakes, sausage and eggs to the 4 children, Poppy sat in amazement of what it takes to bring 4 children to a restaurant. He loves to watch them interact and be children, although we recognize that not everyone shares that sentiment so we try to be respectful when the whole crew goes out to eat. This lead me to remember the ABC News story about a restaurant banning children under 6 from their establishment that has sparked a lot of controversy recently. (Read the rest of MY story before you take a position on that!) Anyway, Poppy complimented me a hundred times on my patience and bravery for even being there and, as he always does, he again made me feel so much better about myself as a mother...for today.
Just as a peaceful lull settled in and I was enjoying my granola-topped yogurt treat, Sprat got up from the table and said he felt sick. Was it because he just scarfed down 2 large pancakes and 2 sodas, or was this a stomach virus coming on? It was anyone's guess. But when he put his hand over his mouth, I decided to take all the guess work out of it and accept this as my cue to RUN to the bathroom. Turns out he just needed a bit of a bowel movement right there in the women's room, with the other 4 women who were probably wondering why there was a 7 year-old in the stall next to them taking a man-sized poop. Good thing I have learned not to care what other people think.
OK.....phew! Now we were ready to go back to the table, chuckle with Poppy about the choas some more, and finish my yogurt "sundae". For like 5 whole minutes. Because that is when Grandmom decided it would be a good idea to unstrap Ladybug from her high chair and let her sit on her lap. Except when Grandmom put her hand down to take the seatbelt off, she got a nasty surprise that isn't something you want to deal with in a restaurant. Poop! All over the place. In the diaper, out of the diaper, soaking her clothes, on the high chair, and sending a lovely aroma around the restaurant for all to enjoy along with their breakfast. It was a poop emergency. Which I would have been better equipped to handle if I didn't have another 2 year-old next to me who didn't have a pair of shoes in her possession. So....Poppy to the rescue again. He took Ladybug by the hand and walked her through the gift shop and out to the car, with Sprat and Bigs following behind, pointing, laughing, and saying "I can't even look, that is soooooo GROSS!" I would tend to agree, however the commentary wasn't going over well with the bystanders, I could tell.
(Back to that controversy about not allowing kids under 6 in the restaurant...my stance on that has changed a little since I first became angry about it. Jury's still out on that one!)
I temporarily removed one of the car seats to provide a car "changing table", and one soiled towel and an entire package of baby wipes later, Ladybug was buckled into her carseat with her bathing suit on and we were ready for the pool! A quick stop at the gas station with the $10 I borrowed from Grandmom and we would be good to go. (Just so we're clear, in case my blog becomes famous and is being read in a future time period, $10 will buy you not quite three gallons of gas these days. But you know what they say...beggars can't be choosers...I think that applies here.) There were no trashcan liners initially at the gas station, so I figured I would be polite and dispose of the diaper trash somewhere else. In my fried brain, I would later forget my discovery of a lined can across the parking lot where I tossed the trash.
So, after heading to my friend's neighborhood and checking 3 mailboxes before I found the right one (haven't actually been to her house in a couple of years), we got a bathing suit for my Bigs and finally arrived at the pool. I decided to take the trash bag over to the dumpster. Except the trash bag had already been disposed of and I actually grabbed the bag with the soiled towel and clothes in it and chucked it into the dumpster. Ooooooops!
I immediately realized my mistake. After feeling guilty about considering leaving the bag in the dumpster and receiving the guilt-trip from Sprat about discarding his "favorite froggy towel that Grandmom gave him for Easter", I went into the swim club and begged the staff for a rake. The manager followed me out to the dumpster to watch me fish the sludge-covered bag from the maggot-ridden dumpster with the rake... all of this while the kids waited in the car. I've seen the Oprah episode where you are not supposed to leave your kids unattended in a car or terrible things will happen to them, but they were within my sight for the entire ordeal. I dare someone to have challenged me on that in the midst of the struggle I was in, while holding a garden rake in my hand. (Maybe that's why the manager had to supervise me, now that I think of it?)
So, the good news is, no one drowned and we actually had a lovely time at the pool. It was much needed brother/sister bonding day for Sprat and Bigs, and a much enjoyed playdate for cousins Tiggly and Ladybug. A perfect pool day! And here I am 11:40 at night, just home from the gym, and I am looking at the pile of wet towels, wet blankets, and plastic-bag contained hazardous-waste-poop-clean-up materials... and I am not really looking forward to heading down to the laundry room. But that's my life, so I will do it and I will do it with a smile... because I am Carolina Sunshine.
To steal a line from the Jon and Kate Plus 8 reality TV show, "It might be a crazy life, but it's our life!"
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