When I Walked Out of the Kitchen

Today Grandma Gail and Grandpa Michael and Great Grandma Judy will arrive for a weekend visit. Of course we are very excited. And of course having guests always takes a certain amount of preparation: grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry and the like. And of course Daddy and I often wait until the last possible moment to do a number of these things. In part because we are procrastinators and in part because most cleaning is undone by you within a matter of hours and sometimes minutes.

So today, when Daddy headed off for his first day of classes, I knew it was going to be a busy first day on the home front too. I, however, was determined to meet my lengthy to do list with energy and grace.

To that end, you and I left the house at 7:15am, you in your fuzzy pink pajamas, brown tennis shoes and winter cap and me in running garb. I had you in the stroller, I had Luxy on a leash, I had a plentiful supply of Cheerios and plastic bags. And we were off! Cool crisp autumn air, early morning sunlight, your bobbing, capped head in front of me...and a small boxer-pug mauling Luxy. What could be better? I didn't let Luxy off the leash for fear of Luxy killing the other dog; I did try to maneuver away from you while also not letting myself get trapped between the warring canines. You looked on without much concern, rolling backward slowly but surely. Stroller brake be damned.

Anyway, the owner finally approached and we were off again, Luxy's ears folded to her head, Mommy's heart pounding, and you looking highly unperturbed.

We had some oatmeal and mashed banana and then I got you dressed. Notice how I waited to dress you until after breakfast? I'm sly like that.

At 9am you looked tired so I put you down for a nap. You cried for half an hour so I got you up from your nap. I brought you downstairs and began looking for your shoes so we could run some errands. Then I heard you laughing a little maniacally. I stepped out of the kitchen and realized I couldn't see you. The laughter continued. I finally realized you were sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for me to become aware of my POOR parenting skills.

We ran our errands and returned home. I went into the kitchen to prepare your lunch. I walked out to find you gleefully holding my empty coffee mug. The rest of the coffee was on your darling outfit and the floor and the leather ottoman. More bonus parenting points for me.

You ate lunch in your coffee stained, garden-themed overalls. I took the clothes off you so I could redress you for lunch. Then I changed your diaper. And I discovered a horrible, terrible diaper rash. At 9am your butt-skin was perfect. At noon you had blisters on both cheeks. The best treatment for diaper rash is a little air-dry time. So I decided to let you play naked for 5 minutes while I did a few dishes. Then I would diaper you and dress you and put you down for your nap.

Except that when I walked out of the kitchen after washing TWO BOWLS you were standing next to Luxy's kennel holding a handful of your own excrement. There was a little on your belly and another dollop on the door of the kennel. The rug featured poop footprints. I thought briefly of that cheezy poem about Jesus and the beach and the carrying. And then I swore. And then I laughed. And then I spent the next 15 minutes picking up globs of poop from the rug and squeezing bits of poop from your fist and then bathing your tiny naked self in the bathroom sink.

Finally, FINALLY I got you clean and diapered and dressed and down for your nap. And then Daddy walked in the door. And then I realized it was only 12:30pm and that it was going to be a very long day.