I promise my post about the best of our weekend is coming. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I’m not entirely sure yet. But it’s coming. And I’ll post all over the place when I write it because 1) I’m just an attention whore like that and 2) seeing high numbers of visits on Google Analytics gives me the warm fuzzies (even though I don’t know what those numbers mean exactly…I mean…they’re numbers…)
I had a great day today at work. I said goodbye to colleagues who are retiring without crying. I got my stuff done. Life is good.
I called a friend on the way home and we chatted about my hair and how she’s doing it next week and how she’s testing out with my hair cut/color and what I need to know, etc.
I picked J up. He’s tired but happy.
We drove home and he “sang” with me to the Glee soundtrack (which basically means he didn’t SCREAM at me about how much he hates that freakin’ car).
We got home.
Annie has had a poop accident inside. She has also puked four times in four different places. She stayed at the boarding facility this past weekend and there is usually an event like this after she stays because she has to get back to her normal poop schedule. That I can handle. The puke? Good God.
So I put Joshua and the dog down the hall and close the gate and clean up the living room while they are screaming/whining/panting/throwing things from the bathroom trashcan at me and then I get the vacuum out. And Joshua CRIES when he sees it. Like, SCREAMS when he sees it. He hates it.
He is scared of the vacuum cleaner.
So I pick him up to vacuum.
Have you ever tried to vacuum whilst holding a 25 pound toddler who has a death grip on your collarbone and your arm?
No? It should be an Olympic sport. (I mean, if CURLING can be a sport, toddler-holding vacuuming can TOTALLY be a sport. And I’d get a freakin’ GOLD MEDAL.)
Then, just as I’m finished vacuuming and I turn the vacuum off, Annie pukes three more times. On the rug. Of course. Despite the fact that I am screaming “NONONONONONO” and running toward her like a crazy person.
So I call Dan, frantically, and I say “YOU BETTER BE ON YOUR WAY HOME. NOW.” and he’s all “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
I put Joshua in the highchair and gave him some goldfish crackers and cleaned up the three new puke spots and vacuum the rug. Again.
And then Joshua ate a pretty good dinner. SCORE.
So we’re playing and then I go into the kitchen to get something to drink and I come around the corner and he’s pulled down the barricade in front of the end table and I see him going for the green cup that has water from two days ago in it. And I yell “NOOOOOOOOOO” but in slow motion, and the water spills all over the chair, the barricade, and him.
So I pick him up and then realize that he has pooped. So I head down the hall toward. And then I remember that there are no diapers. So I pick up the package of diapers from the living room floor (which is as far as they made it when we got home on Monday) and I picked them up UPSIDE DOWN and they SPILLED ALL OVER THE FLOOR.
OH. MY. GOD.
I do not have to go to work tomorrow. Joshua is still going to daycare. I am one glass of wine in already.