Friday, June 18, 2010

The story behind this picture . . .

messy-bed

This is my messy bed.  There’s a reason why the robe I never wear is turned inside out on the corner of the bed.  There’s also a reason why all my Wii equipment is still out in all it’s dried saltiness.  Who am I kidding?  That stuff frequently is laid out to dry and is never put away!  Same for my pajamas.  Not that my pajamas are wet.  They just never got put away.  No time.  But the robe has a story.  Here’s a run down of everything that happened before 9:00 this morning. 

We all studied the insides of our eyeballs until noon. 

Oh wait.  That would be too easy.  And not really blog worthy. 

5:45 am I turned over and realized light had already entered my room.  That was the end of sleeping for me.  So I tested my blood sugar.  231.  Hmph.  On the bright side, this is the lowest reading I’ve had first thing in the morning all week!  I did a bolus correction. 

Half an hour later Heath finally woke up and got up for the day.  I changed into my smoking hot work out clothes and decided to take advantage of my early alertness and the fact that no kids wanted my attention yet. 

Huff puff huff puff.  Today was workout 4 of the 30 day challenge.  I have already done 25 laps around the track this week.  While I missed my calorie burn by 5 calories this morning I am at 98% of the calorie burning goal for the 30 day challenge so far.  Yay me!  I eased my sore, aching muscles to the kitchen and drank nearly 40 0z of water in one gulp.  I’m not kidding. 

The only sound in the house was my tired lungs breathing in and out.  I looked at Gwen’s closed door and debated over whether or not I should wake her up to capture her first pee of the day in the potty chair.  Nah!  I hopped in the shower instead, being careful not to slip and fall because hopping in the shower is a stupidly dangerous activity not conducive to general cleanliness.  I was digging my nice warm shower when suddenly . . .

beep beep beep beep

What the?  I immediately open the shower door.  Then shut it again and turned off the water.  I step out and have a towel wrapped around me in milliseconds.  Realizing a towel, that for some reason shrunk in the washer, a lot, will not be enough naked protection, I wrapped my robe around me. 

Meanwhile the beeping won’t stop.  The boys are standing in the hall with scared looks on their faces ready to dart outside to our special meeting spot in front of the mailboxes.  They know what the beeping is.  The smoke alarms.  Only there’s no smoke.  No fire.  Nothing but a smoke alarm going crazy and waking up my peacefully sleeping children, who were threatened within an inch of their lives last night that they were NOT to be seen or heard before 7:00 am.  It was 7:40.  They were safe from the letter of the law, if not the spirit. 

I turned off the fan that was still oscillating in front of the open windows.  Then I dripped over to the gate and stared at the smoke alarm in the hallway ceiling.  The beeping suddenly stopped.  But we didn’t stop holding our breath.  This has happened before.  It tends to happen in the summer.  Don’t ask why.  It’s like the smoke alarms get bored and want to see what would happen if they go into emergency beeping mode, only to stop and resume beeping again at random intervals.  Fun game right?

I told the boys I was getting back in the shower to finish washing my hair.  I thought we all understood there was no fire.  We did have a short conversation regarding that.  I got out of the shower a minute later and could hear them calling my name,

G:  Mama!  We can’t even go out the front door!
M:  Why do you need to go out the front door?  You don’t need to go out any door.  Is there a fire?
G &P:  Noooooo . . .

I towel off and put my morning clothes on.  (The crumpled pajamas in the picture)

P:  Can Gwen get out of her room?  She’s awake. 
M:  Yes. 

That sinking feeling I’ve had every morning this week returned.  Ready or not, the day has begun! 

I debate over what to put Gwen in, pull up, panties, or let her stay in her diaper since she hadn’t peed that much yet.  Am I ready for another day of potty training?  I’m kind of past the point of no return.  She knows what she’s doing now.  It’s just a matter of timing.  I decide on a pull up telling myself not to react in my mind when she inevitably has an accident.  I just wanted to get the kids fed.  Her potty sitting sentence could wait. 

My meter smiled up at me from the counter daring me to test my blood sugar again.  I took my chances and tested as I heard the drumming of feet on the stairs.  The number came up and I blinked, 58?  Maybe my Jell-O legs weren’t just from the workout! 

Disoriented, tired, and low I watched the world in an out of body experience sort of way.    Do I put Gwen on the potty while I get cereal ready?  Do I grab something for myself?  What do I grab?  Oh yeah, we still have weight loss shakes!  I haven’t had breakfast all week, I forgot! 

Kssssshhhhhhhh!  I cracked that bad boy open and chugged it all before the kids rounded the corner begging for food.  I am super mom! 

The kids were eating so I went outside to bail water out of the pool.  Heath siphons it out with the hose but he only did most of one side.  So I got myself a big Tupperware bucket.  Well, it only holds 14 cups at a time.  And I bailed water for the next half hour or so.  Gallon after gallon of murky, bug cemetery, sunscreen swirled little boy pool water.  Yummy.  My second workout of the day nearly killed my back and hamstrings. 

The kids watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs for the third time in a few days so I could finish primping.  Gwen sat on her potty the whole time since she had not yet peed in her pull up or otherwise. 

Ah . . . 9:00 am.  Oh but it doesn’t stop there.  We went to the playground at 10:00 hoping to see our Park Day friends.  No such luck.  Just a large community mom group along with what looked like day care people.  At first I guessed annoyed grandma but her ill fitting masculine t-shirt over the top of a long sleeved t-shirt screamed day care to me.  Especially when the lady yelled at and shook a one year old baby for walking by the swings.   She didn’t shake the girl hard but enough that I saw and wondered what happens behind closed doors.  I should have reported it but I didn’t. 

She had no patience for that little girl.  “Name!  You can’t have food over there!  Come sit down!”  Repeat three times.  How about:  “Name.  No no.  Come here.” instead of all that blabbedy blab?  Then she said, “Name!  Do you want a time out?”  The girl nodded yes.  “Come here!”  Then the woman turned to the other adults around her and said, “Every time I ask her if she wants a time out she nods her head.”  It wasn’t an exasperated relative comment.  More like a very disgruntled, impatient day care worker comment. 

Things have finally settled down a little around here.  We’ve had lunch and many potty successes with one rather large puddly accident.  Heath will come home soon because his office is moving to another building today.  One that will make his commute longer and more annoying.  Awesome.  But Gavin is calling my name.  Hold on. 

G:  “BLOOD!”

Gotta go!  There’s always something going on around here. 

1 thoughts:

Dawn said...

It is most definitely time for a new smoke alarm.