Today I heard a song on the radio that sent me back to slow dancing with a cute boy at the 7th/8th grade dance. Everything from the smell of the freshly-waxed gym floor to the well-planned outfit I was wearing (cream jeans and a navy/garnet rugby shirt...circa 1993). So can someone please explain to me why I can remember random, useless information like this, but yet I can't seem to remember things like packing underwear for my children when we go on a road trip?! Apparently pregnancy brain does not go away upon delivery.
Let me catch you up to speed since it's been four months since we last chatted (because I forgot to publish a post a few months ago about Preschool..but I uploaded that today). We've built a house and finally moved in, Laiten is potty trained while Maisen refuses, and I'm still running around this town like a chicken with it's head cut off. There have been millions of funny things that have happened in the folds of all of this goodness, and shame on me for getting away from documenting it here so that y'all can laugh with me (with me, not at me...right?!) However, this last road trip I made to Atlanta gave me so much material, I knew I needed to make time to share the madness that is parenting twin toddlers.
This road trip was the first I've made alone during the day (because only crazy people drive with toddlers during the day) with the girls since Laiten's been potty trained. I knew this was going to create some melee, since she'd need to stop fairly often to potty and daddy wasn't along to help. But there was no way I could stop every hour, drag two children out of their car seats and into some El Cheapo (a real place...see below) to utilize their public restroom without one of us contracting a disease of some sort. So, I got creative and put her Baby Bjorn potty down in the floorboard on the passenger side. Perfecto! Maybe this wouldn't be so bad (said the devil himself).
Things were going great until about 1.5 hours into the drive. Those of you who've driven from Savannah to Atlanta are all too familiar with the barren drive of Interstate 16. There are only a few places to stop until you get to I-75, and really only one place you can stop with piece of mind. Laiten had to potty at the 30 minute and one hour mark, so from there I figured she was going to fall asleep and we'd be cruising all the way to Atlanta without any more stops. Just as her eyes got heavy and I started to crank up Zac Brown, I heard a sleepy little whispery voice say, "Mommy??" As any good parent with an almost napping child does, I acted like I didn't hear her. (New or almost parents - this is a lesson for you. Don't engage, don't make eye-contact and certainly don't ever make sleepy-talk with a child who's drifting off to Neverland. Mistake of a lifetime.) And then came, "Mommy - I have to poooooop!"
Enter stage right: a mother's panic in the middle of nowhere Georgia.
Maisen was sleeping, so I knew I needed to try to keep the peace as I started to weigh my options. I asked Laiten a million times to confirm the fact that, yes, indeed, she had to go. By this point, she was speed-chanting, "Oh mommy, hurry up! I don't want to poop in my big girl panties!" Just typing that brings me to a cold sweat. I'm now going about 85 miles per hour down the interstate praying for a freaking exit sign. I can see blue in the distance, so I know I'm getting close. As I approach, I can only see one square on the exit sign, which means our options are limited to...(squinting, trying to make out what the sign says with my three-month old contacts) EL CHEAPO GAS STATION. Fabulous.
I pull into the ol' El Cheapo and act like I'm topping off my tank. I grab Laiten and just about throw her into the passenger side floor board, and give her a high-five for not having an accident...and give myself a mental fiver for being a freaking amazing mom. Potty in the car...whoop!! I do a little survey of my shared company at the Cheapo, and allies are at a minimum. Truckers, college kids and random vagrants. At this rate, I don't really care. I'm just glad we avoided a blitzkrieg in the car. Laiten finishes her business, I get her back in the car seat...and then, I realize I have to do something with the aftermath. I shuffle around the car to look for a plastic bag to package it up, and realize I have NOTHING. No diaper bags, no Publix bags, not even a random Ziploc baggie, which on any other day, 45 of them would be scattered throughout my back seat. My only option at this rate was to take a handful of wipes and well...freelance it right into the gas station garbage can. I'll save you the graphic details since I've already used the P word several times against my better judgement, but know that it wasn't pretty and I sped away, leaving rubber on the road at the El Cheapo. I'm guessing I'm not welcome back.
I really thought I was well-prepared for this trip, but forgetting the plastic bags for the dooty was only my first mishap. I also forgot to pack any big girl panties for Laiten (although she was excited to buy new fairies ones in Atlanta), forgot to put her panties on for church that Sunday (commando with the Lord...somewhere my Grandma is having heart palpitations) and forgot plastic bags yet again for the trip home (where I had to replay the El Cheapo situation but at an abandoned Walmart parking lot in Jonesboro this time). Apparently getting Laiten completely potty trained has caused me to lose my mind, memory and sanity. I'm not bald or gray yet, though...good news. Maybe Maisen will stay in Pull Ups forever. I'm starting to like that idea.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
First Day of Preschool
There was every indiciation that today was going to be a bruiser. L&M woke up at 6:45 because "alligators were scaring them." I had to explain to them that most Seminole fans have had a bad dream or two about those scary-looking kids that call themselves Gators. (Couldn't resist.) Laiten was hunting and pecking in the bathroom about 10 minutes before we were walking out the door, and found mommy's pretty pink razor. She came waltzing into the living room in her beautiful school dress, hair coifed just right in her "bangs-only" ponytail...and a hand bleeding so badly that I thought certainly there was a finger missing. All I could think of was her dripping blood onto her new school shoes or wiping a shmear of blood down the front of her sweet dress. Two soaked towels and three Dora BandAids later (the first two BandAids were not appropriate, as they did not include Boots), we were back in business and sliding into the car just in time to make it to school before the bell.
Believe it or not, the before and during school was actually the easiest part of my day. The girls were excited to march into school (although Maisen was a little nervous) and play with their new friends. The school was full of young, breezy parents dropping off their little ones for the first time. Eddie and I left L&M with the parting words to please be nice to all the kids because mommy and daddy are still making new friends in Savannah, and well...we can't afford for y'all to be hateful preschoolers!
The carpool line at the end of the school day was pretty hilarious. The carpool line is like walking into a party with your mute button on. I've got a ginormous poster board with my kids' names on it in my dash, so do you...let's smile and wave at each other and share menial nonverbal communication queues. If you've ever driven/rode in a Jeep, you know what I'm talking about - you give a little wave that means, "Hey - you're cool, I'm cool - we're in the same club." I was laughing out loud (silently to my new friends) by the end of my 30 minutes.
But it was after lunch and our afternoon nap that things got a little dicey. We had to pick up our dog from the kennel after our long weekend in Tallahassee. We loaded Bowden up into the car and started our trek back home when I noticed (what I thought were) muddy paw prints all over the console. Hmmmm...at the next red light, I looked back and saw them all over the back seat too, as L&M were trading hugs with Bowden and catching up on lost sugars. I caught a glance at B's rear paw and noticed that was indeed NOT mud, but rather...well, you can imagine. Seems we must have ran through someone's 'today's special' on our way out of the kennel and now it was all. over. my. car. And the dog. And quite possibly, the children. No visible signs indicated such on the children, but my mind was crawling with disgust. I pulled over and furiously swept the entire car looking for baby wipes. Not in the back seat, not in trunk, nothing in the glove box. MOTHER OF PEARL, HOW DOES A MOM OF TWINS NOT HAVE A FREAKING WIPE TO HER NAME?!?! So out of sheer desperation, I grabbed the dog's blanket out of the back and begin to furiously scrub anything that would stand still. It was a disaster.
When we pulled into the apartment complex, I dashed inside to grab the dog wash and gloves, and drove everyone down to the car wash. I scrubbed Bowden within an inch of his life and was able to find some Armor-All wipes to make some progress on the interior. (Still couldn't find a mother flippin' baby wipe.) When we got home, I threw the girls into the bathtub and thought seriously about dashing in a capful of Clorox. Since I'm already in the running for Mother of the Year, I bypassed the Clorox, but did decide to use bar soap instead of baby wash because apparently in my fetal mind, bar soap has stronger cleaning qualities.
After I got both girls out of the bathtub and into their fresh jammies, I gave them both a snack and a big girl cup of milk (we're preschoolers now!) I turned to cut myself a rice krispie treat and take a deep breath when I heard Laiten say, "Mommy!! The TV is broken!" And that's when I saw her big girl cup in a puddle of milk...on top of our cable box.
And that's when mommy's brain fried for the day, right along with our cable TV. (I'm breaking out in hives just thinking about it.)
Did I mention that we'll do this all over again tomorrow?
Believe it or not, the before and during school was actually the easiest part of my day. The girls were excited to march into school (although Maisen was a little nervous) and play with their new friends. The school was full of young, breezy parents dropping off their little ones for the first time. Eddie and I left L&M with the parting words to please be nice to all the kids because mommy and daddy are still making new friends in Savannah, and well...we can't afford for y'all to be hateful preschoolers!
The carpool line at the end of the school day was pretty hilarious. The carpool line is like walking into a party with your mute button on. I've got a ginormous poster board with my kids' names on it in my dash, so do you...let's smile and wave at each other and share menial nonverbal communication queues. If you've ever driven/rode in a Jeep, you know what I'm talking about - you give a little wave that means, "Hey - you're cool, I'm cool - we're in the same club." I was laughing out loud (silently to my new friends) by the end of my 30 minutes.
But it was after lunch and our afternoon nap that things got a little dicey. We had to pick up our dog from the kennel after our long weekend in Tallahassee. We loaded Bowden up into the car and started our trek back home when I noticed (what I thought were) muddy paw prints all over the console. Hmmmm...at the next red light, I looked back and saw them all over the back seat too, as L&M were trading hugs with Bowden and catching up on lost sugars. I caught a glance at B's rear paw and noticed that was indeed NOT mud, but rather...well, you can imagine. Seems we must have ran through someone's 'today's special' on our way out of the kennel and now it was all. over. my. car. And the dog. And quite possibly, the children. No visible signs indicated such on the children, but my mind was crawling with disgust. I pulled over and furiously swept the entire car looking for baby wipes. Not in the back seat, not in trunk, nothing in the glove box. MOTHER OF PEARL, HOW DOES A MOM OF TWINS NOT HAVE A FREAKING WIPE TO HER NAME?!?! So out of sheer desperation, I grabbed the dog's blanket out of the back and begin to furiously scrub anything that would stand still. It was a disaster.
When we pulled into the apartment complex, I dashed inside to grab the dog wash and gloves, and drove everyone down to the car wash. I scrubbed Bowden within an inch of his life and was able to find some Armor-All wipes to make some progress on the interior. (Still couldn't find a mother flippin' baby wipe.) When we got home, I threw the girls into the bathtub and thought seriously about dashing in a capful of Clorox. Since I'm already in the running for Mother of the Year, I bypassed the Clorox, but did decide to use bar soap instead of baby wash because apparently in my fetal mind, bar soap has stronger cleaning qualities.
After I got both girls out of the bathtub and into their fresh jammies, I gave them both a snack and a big girl cup of milk (we're preschoolers now!) I turned to cut myself a rice krispie treat and take a deep breath when I heard Laiten say, "Mommy!! The TV is broken!" And that's when I saw her big girl cup in a puddle of milk...on top of our cable box.
And that's when mommy's brain fried for the day, right along with our cable TV. (I'm breaking out in hives just thinking about it.)
Did I mention that we'll do this all over again tomorrow?
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