Monday, October 6, 2014

It's Not My Fault: My Baby Ate My Brain

Oh boy. If you're currently pregnant and looking for your brain at the end of the pregnancy tunnel, I have bad news for you..........your baby already ate your brain through the umbilical cord like it was a milkshake through a straw and you'll never get it back. People have always warned me that I'll never be as smart as I was before I got pregnant, and it is oh so true.
Let me just give a run down of a few dumb things I did this week. 
Sometimes the boy is just in a crab of a mood. As I realize we humans aren't all peaches 100% of the time, I tired to just accept that Tuesday was his day, but it was hard. He cried every time I tried to put him a down for a second, literally, which made every aspect of life 10 times more hectic and difficult. In the chaotic blur of getting Patrick's and Dillon's gear packed for swim lessons, half of Dillon's accumulative belongings together and in the car for his first day of new child care, my things for work, eat, pump, and squeeze in a shower (all with him screaming at me), I was lucky to even find my way out the back door. It wasn't until I walked into the hospital that I realized I didn't have my very important backpack harboring my very important work badge (that I purposefully placed in my back pack so I wouldn't get to work without it). My perfect photogenic memory informed me the bag was laying on the dining room floor, lonely and scared, surrounded by the disaster of a home I'd left for Patrick to put back together. I had to call my hero of a husband and have him drive back across town to bring it to me. #fail
Thursday was going to be a new story!
Sing with me: It's a new dawn! It's a new day! And I'm feeling good like I really got my shit together!
I was on the ball with a happy baby, a motivated me, and a mission to do better. I did all the dishes, took the puppies on a walk, read Dillon a few books, got my things together and wardrobe laid out for work without turning the house upside down, took a shower, convinced Dillon to take 2 naps in his pack-n-play for the first time ever, managed to squeeze in a 30 minute nap of my own......things were looking up. I even got us out of the house in time to see Jessica for her Dirty Thirty happy hour........but just before we left, something snapped.
I was pumping and overflowed a bottle. Covered in milk, my initial mild distress was worsened to moderate by the realization that I was also covered in baby stool. There was poo puddled on the couch (thank goodness it's leather), soaked through Dillon's onsie from his diaper up to his neck, and saturated through my yoga pants. After we were put back together in working order, I started to load the car in a monsoon. A severe thunderstorm rushed in out of the clear blue sky just as I needed to leave!!! One trip and I was completely drenched; water dripping from my hair, I looked like I had just jumped into a pool fully clothed (I really did do that once). I quickly snagged my rain coat from the coat closet (wait for it), and braved the storm once more to put Dillon in the car.
Patrick met me at Chuy's to get Dillon and wish Jess a happy birthday. As he was leaving he said, "Do you need anything from the diaper bag?"
"Yes!! I need my wallet."
"Is that all?"
 I nodded yes.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I have everything in the car." That should have been my hint. The car. But I no longer have a brain, so it slipped right past me until I actually needed to leave.
That's right, you guessed it. My keys were in the diaper bag. I called Patrick, begging for mercy and forgiveness. You'd think I'd been on my toes (with all I've put him through in that last two days) when he drove back to drop them off, but I wasn't. I missed his call and he had to resort to calling other people to get my attention.
When I finally was able to leave the restaurant, I realized as soon as I got to work that I had forgot to pay for my tea, so I had to call the birthday girl and ask her if she'd spot me. #epicfail
And what you've been waiting for? Well.........when Patrick got home he sent me a text. "Weirdest thing. When I got home I couldn't find Callie. She was locked in the coat closet behind the pack-n-play."
He had no idea that I'd had my rain coat. As a matter of fact, the storm that caused me so much grief was blowing and going so fast, it was gone just as fast as it came. It was nothing but sunny skies on the side of town he'd met me at and he'd wondered why I was wet. But Callie is terrified of storms and must have sneaked in the closet during the 3 seconds I had the door open and spent the next 2 hours in a dark hole patiently waiting to be rescued. #legendaryfail
Two days later I was left the house without remembering to insert any nursing pads after getting dressed. I realized it in the car and frantically searched for anything absorbent to stuff in my bra before the entire city noticed my light grey shirt turn dark grey over two very distinct landmarks of the female body. Luckily I found exactly two cheapo fast food napkins. #closecallbutstillafail
So there you have it. I'm off my rocker with a capitol R..........or O.......I'm not sure, because like I said, I might as well be the scare crow from the Wizard of Oz.


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