Unintentional Hiatus

You know those days when motherhood – and just life in general – totally overwhelms you? And then life gives you, like, six of those days in a row because why not?

Yeah. So I had to take a few days away from blogging because something had to give. Sadly, the first something to go is almost always something I enjoy and find therapeutic. Like this here blog.

Anyway, here’s an entertaining snipit for you. I call it “Wednesday Morning.” Enjoy.

I wake up to the sound of Zoey’s voice on the monitor and look at the clock. Crap. We’re supposed to be somewhere in one hour. Go downstairs to get Zoey and find her and her bed soaked with pee. Strip the kid and toss the sheets in the laundry, thinking of course I just changed her sheets yesterday and haven’t had time to wash the other set yet. So there are no clean sheets to replace these with until I do a load of laundry. Before naptime somehow.

Get Zoey upstairs and into the shower with me and as soon as I start washing my hair, Eleanor wakes up (bet you saw that one coming, huh?) Finish my shower as fast as I can and fill up the tub so Zoey can play in it while I get Eleanor (the tub is literally about 4 feet from where Eleanor’s door, so Zoey is not going unattended in the tub. Just in case you were concerned for her safety). So as soon as I get Eleanor dressed – but not fed yet because I had to clean up the enormous “I’ve been saving this up for 3 days” poop first -I look over and realize Zoey has poured an entire bottle of baby shampoo on her head and is oh so helpfully “washing my hair mommy!”

So hungry Eleanor (who does, by the way, have an ear infection) has to get set down to wait some more while I try to wash the shampoo out of Zoey’s hair. Zoey hates having her hair rinsed out. She’s terrified of water getting in her eyes and ears and it’s a struggle to get a normal amount of shampoo out of her hair, let alone a whole bottle. By the time I’m done rinsing her hair out Zoey is thoroughly traumatized and crying, Eleanor is fussing to be fed, my stomach is growling, it’s already 10am (the time we were supposed to be someplace) and I’m like “Screw this. I want a do-over on my morning.”

The end.

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