Murphy's Law

You know those days where you think to yourself "why did I even get out of bed?"

Well, my day, up until about an hour ago, was not one of those days. In fact, it was turning out to be quite a lovely day. We had waffles and eggs for breakfast, I decided to skip the gym (after waffles and eggs for breakfast...not my best idea...) and instead spend the morning cleaning and then take Taylor to the park to play. Well, we did all that...vacuumed, mopped, etc...packed up some snacks, and headed out to the park...with big girl underwear on! This is our first time away from the house (or Gramma's house) without a diaper and she did great! No accidents...and in fact, she proved to me that she can hold it if she wants to. We'd been at the park for about a half hour when she said she had to go potty. "Ok, let's go!" I say. We walk over to the port-o-potty (I know, gross, but hey...that was my only option and when she says she has to go, we go!) and go inside. Taylor says "what's that, mama?" I say "that's the potty honey...that's where you're gonna go pee-pee." She looks at the toilet (or, the hole) and looks at me and says "NO mommy! That's yucky!" I said "I know honey, but mommy will hold you up so you don't have to touch it, ok??" With a fear in her eyes, she whimpers "No mommy, NO!" I say "ok, then we have to leave the park and go potty somewhere else..." She says "Ok." So we did! She held it all the way to Safeway, and boy, did she have to go!

So we get home and it's time for lunch...well, past time for lunch, but whatever. Taylor doesn't want to sit in her high chair much anymore, so when she climbed up on one of the big stools at the kitchen table, I didn't argue. I gave her her yogurt and apple slices and walked away to make her a sandwich. I hear "uh oh, mommy" and turn around to see a big glob of yogurt on the floor. "That's ok honey, I'll clean it up. You just eat your lunch."

I give her a sandwich and just as I'm about done cleaning up the yogurt on the floor she says "mommy, my hands please." I look up to see yogurt all over her hands and her shirt.

"Ok, you're going in your high chair cuz you're making too big of a mess today."

With no protest she sits in her high chair and finishes her apple, tears apart her sandwich and eats the turkey and the cheese, and then says "mommy, I bar-bar please?"

"Sure, you can have a granola bar."

Little did I know, she didn't wanna eat it, she just wanted to break it all up and throw it all over the floor...along with the rest of her yogurt.

She NEVER makes a mess like this.

"Taylor, what are you doing? Why are you making such a mess??"

"I done, mommy."

"Yes, you're done."

So as I'm on my hands and knees, again, cleaning up yogurt and granola bits I'm thinking to myself 'why do things like this have to happen on a day that I just mopped the floor?!?'

Just as I finish, in walks Taylor. "Uh oh, mommy...potty."

Lord, tell me she did not just pee her pants.

She peed her pants.

And of course, she's walking towards me with her little urine soaked pants and socks and leaving little pee-pee foot prints along the way.

"Taylor! Why did you pee-pee in your pants?!"

"Cuz."

Oh really, we're starting that already?

"Ok, well you're going in the bathtub now...come on."

"Ok, mommy!"

Now, here's where I made my big mistake.

I asked her if she had to go potty before she got in the tub.

She said no.

Well, of course not, you just peed all over the floor, is what I'm thinking.

So, I rinse her pee-pee clothes out in the sink.

I tell her I'll be right back and I go to wipe up the pee-pee footprints in the kitchen.

(yes, I left her alone in the bathtub...she's two and I could hear her playing...I'm not a bad mother.)

I'm mopping the floor...again...and I hear the only words that could've made this day any worse.

"Mommy, POO-POO. Poo-poo, Mommy. Uh-oh!"

No. Effing. Way.

I run into the bathroom to find her half in the tub and half out...trying desperately to get far away from the terd that is floating in the water.

S*@! Now what do I do?!

Drain the water.

Put a towel on the floor, sit her on it and tell her "don't move."

Brace yourselves...

I grab the poop (bare-handed) and throw it in the toilet.

Wash hands.

Rinse the tub out with hot water.

Throw all toys that were in the tub in the sink.

Fill up sink with bleach water.

Grab the Lysol, scrub bathtub.

Fill bathtub back up and put shivering daughter back in it.

Wash poop off of daughter.

Grab new towel. (the other one now has poop on it)

Wrap her up, pick her up and hear "I love you, mommy."

Stop.

All of a sudden, everything came to a screeching halt.

It now dawns on me that she must have thought that I was mad at her this whole time.

I wasn't yelling or anything, but I was noticeably irritated at the one-thing-right-after-another situation that had taken place.

"I love you, too honey. You just had an accident and that's ok. Mommy's not mad at you!"

I sat on the floor and she hugged me for a good 5 minutes, every so often lifting her head just to give me a kiss, tell me she loves me, and lay her head back down again.

So sweet.

I put a diaper on her and put her to bed.

Then, I finished mopping the floor...again!

This whole debacle took a good 45 minutes and by the time I was done I had to laugh.

There are times that I'm going to her room at 3am and I think to myself, one day you're gonna wish she needed you in the middle of the night. Or when she's sick and crabby and only wants me to hold her, I think, one day you're gonna ache to hold her in your arms again.

Well, friends, this day is certainly not a day that I will ever look back on and think, I wish I could do that all over again!

Ugh!!