Thursday, February 26, 2015

SAHM day. Like riding a bike.

Today started out warm enough to skip coats and it seemed like maybe we were about to see the light at the end of the February tunnel, but then as James and Mary and I enjoyed lunch out at Noodles and Co I happened to look out the window just as the wind hauled around to the north, whipping leaves and dirt all across the parking lot.  The sky clouded over ominously.  I wanted to yell "NOOOOOOOO" dramatically like someone witnessing a horrible accident in a movie, but instead I just sank into my seat with sad resignation.  I checked the forecast on my phone, which confirmed that we had already reached our high temperature for the day and were on the way back down to the upper twenties.  Suckfest.

James and Mary had well-checks today and since James was home sick already I decided to keep Mary home with me too.  Here are some things I have forgotten about being a full-time stay at home parent:

*A thirty minute trip to Trader Joe's can be punctuated by three (3!!) bathroom visits for the same, long-potty trained, child.  Someone must have been slipping him espresso while I was not looking because hand to god I learned YEARS ago to purposely dehydrate the children before running errands.

*Somehow "dinner ingredients" cost $52.  Apparently, in addition to black bean and sweet potato enchiladas, we are also having two boxes of Joe Joes, some honeycrisp apple juice, a bag of pirate's booty, and a loaf of banana bread.  Also I forgot *actual* bananas.

*We needed diapers too but since the weather went from pleasant and springlike to McMurdo Station in the course of a forty-five minute lunch I decided to skip Target on the way home.  She won't need more than one more diaper today, right?  Right?

*He also needed to go to the bathroom at the restaurant.  That's four trips to the potty in an hour.

*Everything takes three times as long as it should.  For instance: the drive from the pediatrician to the grocery store, which I had to do twice.  The first time we left, James said he wanted his after-shots treat to be "cookies from the place by the doctor" so I buckled them in, drove across the parking lot, and pulled into the adjacent parking lot where the cookie store was.  "NO NOT THIS COOKIE PLACE" he informed me.  He wanted the one in the basement of the doctor's office.  After some pointless explaining that there was no cookie store at the doctor's office I consented to driving back to the doctor's office to show him that the only thing in the basement of the doctor's office was a parking garage, then I proceeded to head for the grocery store.  A BLOCK AWAY FROM THE STORE, James decided he really did want to go to the first cookie place after all and since he had just had shots and I really like cookies, I decided to indulge him.  So we made a questionable U-Turn and headed back to the cookie store.  Imagine the expression on my face when we pulled into the parking lot and James became enraged because ONCE AGAIN I HAD CHOSEN THE WRONG COOKIE STORE.  I calmly explained that "This is THE ONLY COOKIE STORE BY THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE.  You have to the count of three to make a decision."  Ultimately I drove us back to the grocery store WITH NO COOKIES because I was not unbuckling two children only to have a sidewalk tantrum on my hands.

*Those stupid collapsible straws that come with the organic milk boxes were designed by someone who hates children.

*James keeps telling me the leg he got shots in hurts and is refusing to walk normally.  Of course I assumed (internally) that he was a big fakey mcfakerson, but every time Mary tries to get up some toddler speed she whimpers and points to the thigh they used for her shots.  Oops.

I think that's everything.  We had a really fun morning and now that Mary's napping I will have time to put some enchiladas together for dinner.  Then we will pick up Charley and Wes and then I have a physical therapy appointment which is good because I have been lifting allllls the kids this morning, which is strictly against the rules for the next three to five weeks, but what are you gonna do?

I might also make some sugar cookies because I'm feeling all domestic and stuff.  And I really need a reason to turn the oven on for a while because DANG.

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